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When Your Hands Are Empty #poemofhope #faithpoetry #spokenwordpoetry

There will be a season when you have done all you know to do and still, nothing. No answer at the door. No sudden change. No sign in the sky telling you that tomorrow will be kinder. Just you, your unanswered prayer, and the strange silence that makes you question whether God is still listening. He is. Do not mistake silence for absence. Some of God's deepest work happens without making a sound. Roots grow in darkness. Healing happens beneath skin. Morning begins long before the window knows there is light. And somewhere beyond what you can see, your life is being moved by hands you cannot follow. So do not abandon your faith because you cannot trace God's footsteps. You were never promised a clear view. You were given enough light for the next step. Take it. Even if your knees shake. Even if your heart has questions your mouth is afraid to ask. Take it. Faith is not a life without uncertainty. It is waking up with uncertainty beside you and refusing to let it choose your direc...
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Smiles that return every "December"

We gather again beneath December lights,
Same chairs, same room, same practiced cheer,
Laughter rehearsed like an old carol
That everyone knows, but no one feels.

Hugs are exchanged like obligations,
Warm on the outside, cold within,
Eyes smile first, then mouths follow,
While hearts stay carefully hidden.

The table is full, yet something starves—
Truth waits outside with the night air,
Jealousy sits quietly between plates,
Hatred dressed up as polite care.

Compliments sharpened with quiet comparison,
Success weighed, failure displayed,
Every story told to outshine another,
Every silence is carefully staged.

We call it family, we call it tradition,
Year after year, we return the same,
Dragging old wounds through tinsel and candles,
Renaming resentment as holiday flame.

By midnight, masks grow heavy on faces,
The smiles crack but never fall,
We promise love, we promise visits,
Then leave with nothing settled at all.

And so it repeats—another December,
Another gathering, another disguise,
Until Christmas comes knocking again,
And we meet once more
With the same fake smiles
And the same quiet lies.

© 2025 Gloria Penelope


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