Sometimes I feel like I am stuck in the middle of a tornado and the air is being sucked out of my lungs by the pressure of the whipping winds, my hair stinging my face. Sometimes I feel like I am standing on a backwoods country road in the middle of a dark night walking blind feeling my way forward inch by inch not knowing what is ahead. Sometimes I am under water, anchor tied to my ankle, looking up at the line between sea and air.
It is hope that keeps me going, not fear. Hope is reaching into my front pants pocket, feeling for the coins gotten by learned lessons I sweated and wept tears to earn. The scar around my neck a badge of courage and proof I know how to fight. I take out my sword of honor and hold it high as I will not be defeated. My cloak is peace woven with strands of joy. My crown is hope. I will be brave through the wind and the night.
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