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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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What a year it was #poem #sadpoetry

What a year I carried on my back,
Heavy as stone, slow as pain,
Days stretched longer than hope itself,
Nights whispered failure again and again.

Everything went wrong, one by one,
As if the world rehearsed my fall,
Setbacks lined the road like scars,
And mercy never came at all.

I felt like karma knew my name,
Calling me out for crimes unknown,
Punishing me without a trial,
Leaving me to stand alone.

What a year—if it was a year at all,
Or just a chapter soaked in grief,
Not destiny, not God’s desire,
Just life testing my belief.

I questioned the meaning behind the pain,
Wondered what lesson I failed to see,
Asked the sky in quiet moments,
“Why did this all come to me?”

But now I stand at a gentler door,
A new year breathing, clean and wide,
Carrying hope I almost lost,
Still bruised, yet not denied.

Maybe—just maybe—a new year will heal me,
Bring light where shadows used to stay,
Turn every loss into a seed,
And teach my heart how to rise again, not break, but stay.

I enter softer, wiser now,
Still dreaming, still alive,
Believing the best is yet to come—
And this new year will finally let me thrive.


© 2025 Gloria Penelope

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