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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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Where Your Name Still Lives #freeverse #lovepoetry #poem

The thoughts of you,
I drown within them slowly,
like waves that never learned
how to let the shore rest.
They rise without warning,
pulling me under in silence,
where even breathing feels like remembering.

They come uninvited,
soft at first, then overwhelming,
carrying echoes of laughter
that no longer belongs to the present.
I hear you in the quiet,
in the spaces between seconds,
in the places I tried so hard to empty.

Memories of both of us
linger in quiet corners of my mind,
replaying moments
as if time refused to move forward.
Every glance, every word,
every touch we once held onto,
they remain untouched by forgetting.

Your name,
it does not fade,
it settles deep within my soul,
like something carved, not written.
I whisper it without sound,
feel it without meaning to,
as if my heart memorized you too well.

I try to forget,
I truly do,
but forgetting feels like betrayal
to something that once felt eternal.
How do I erase a feeling
that once felt like home?
How do I silence what still echoes within me?

So I deny the truth, 
wrap it in silence,
hide it beneath distractions,
pretend the absence does not ache.
I tell myself I’ve moved on,
that I’ve grown past the past,
but even lies grow tired of being repeated.

Because truth has a voice,
and it whispers in familiar places,
the streets we walked,
the air that once carried your presence.
It lingers in songs,
in passing faces,
in moments that should mean nothing, but don’t.

Where memories were made,
I now stand alone,
surrounded by ghosts
only my heart can see.
Every step feels heavier there,
like the ground remembers us
more clearly than I wish it did.

And still, somehow,
in all this quiet ruin,
you remain,
unforgotten,
unspoken,
undone.

Not as you were,
but as you left me,
a feeling that refuses to fade,
a story without an ending,
a name that still lives
where I once tried to let go.


© 2026 Gloria Penelope

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