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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...

Happiness Elsewhere #poem #family #lovepoetry

He carries two silences.
One waits for him at dusk,
set with familiar walls,
small shoes by the door,
promises aging quietly
in their frames.

The other meets him elsewhere
unannounced, unnamed
where laughter feels lighter,
where his heart remembers
How to open without effort.

One life is built of years and gravity,
held together by habit and hope.
The other is a flame,
brief, necessary,
asking nothing but honesty.

Joy does not live where he sleeps.
It finds him in passing hours,
in glances that cannot linger,
in happiness already mourning itself.

He stands where stone meets boiling water,
learning that stillness can burn.
To move is to destroy.
To stay is to disappear.

He loves deeply
not foolishly,
not loudly
but in the quiet way
That leaves no safe ending.

And so he remains divided,
a man shaped by what he keeps
and by what he cannot let go.


© 2026 Gloria Penelope



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