Hope Remains (Nonfiction Experiment)

        On a few bars I write, how many I know not, only that hope cannot be stopped; so I write. Through cold and uncomfortable I walk a page for a while, sitting near lights of many colors upon branches of a white tree lit up in the quiet morning moment.

         Through the limitations of reception I speak with every word written, reach past the difficulty of connection upon some online platform and page. Through the floor of uncomfortable a strange comfort through peace is found, found with each idea expressed as consideration of family that still sleeps is held and grace is given in the paused pace. "Could cold stop the warm fires of a persistent, consistent soul?", an ice fisherman asks, staring at a still line remaining ready for fish to catch through the frozen waters of an ice fishing shack in some ice fishing hole made. It stirs suddenly, and the fisherman reels in his large catch, answering the question asked of cold: No."; and I agree, sensing hope that remains even here, from a fictitious fisherman showing hope remains...... remains even in the cold felt on a cold winter morning.

Sidenote: If any of the writing on this blog has made a good impact on your life in someway (EVEN if it was something you may have enjoyed reading for a particular reason), please feel free to share this blog with someone else who could be blessed also. Thank you for your support!