Despair
Just for this small corner of today I don’t want to look for the hope
In this small corner of today I need
to see,
to hear,
to feel,
to know the despair.

I need to be allowed to rend the sack cloth of my attire
To cry out joining in the grief of the world
To hear the pain deep in my soul that as so many say good bye forever
As they find balm for the bruises, tissues for the tears
and know that tomorrow brings more of the same.
I know that it is hope that will let them rise again, but for now they hurt and they cry

I need to feel the ashes as my arms go empty
not hugging my friends in their happiness and sorrow
Taste the ashes on my tongue that take the place of the meals we might have shared
It is not nourishing

I need to cry out in despair thinking ahead – just for this one moment
What will holidays to come be like?
How will we give thanks in this strange land?

I know that there is hope, and that it is what has brought us this far
Indeed I know that it will carry us forward.
But have we noticed the despair?
Really seen it?
Rolled in the mess and the mire of it?
I can feel it squishing between my toes like mud.
It has texture and warmth and apparently all the colors there are.
Every one of them.
Today, as the world cries out, it covers my body.
It’s in my covid shorn hair and between my empty arms.
Soon, I will rise and wash it off, perhaps even in the running water of tears
It will appear to all be gone,
And then, I’ll discover a smear between my toes, or behind my ear
In another world someone might pass me a cloth with which I could wipe the smear away.
In this one, I’ll find something, perhaps a new leaf on a branch just within reach
Or maybe I’ll leave it there because I need to feel what the world feels.

Let’s save hope for the future.
Today, just this little bit of today, there’s despair.

Written by Rina Jurceka, Church Administrator at the UU Church of Delaware County in Media, Pennsylvania