This piece of Spiritual Art Fiction emerges from the quiet space where endings dissolve and beginnings dare to form.
It speaks to the fragile, persistent ember we call hope… the kind that lingers when all else fades, the kind that rebuilds from almost nothing.
It flows from a heart that refuses to surrender, even when the visible world offers little to hold on to.
It invites us to believe that even the tiniest seed, a flicker, a memory, a whisper can be enough to spark a new becoming.
Between what was and what could still be, something sacred stirs…
Let these words meet you there… where longing meets light, where faith softens fear, and where hope, quietly but powerfully, begins again.
White Hope
Hope dies last,
even when the future has replaced the past.
My darling, in the physical there is nothing left apart from 0,1111 percent.
but nothing is lost, there is room for an extent.
I trust we can still reach a 100 percent,
with a lot of work and good intent.
It is my creed,
that there is this tiny pink seed.
A foundation we can build upon,
when we are focused and strong.
If we left behind what one would normally do,
an innovative approach could get us through.
If we focus on the heart and neglect ego and mind,
we might be surprised of what we find.
This love bond between our hearts, nearly incognoscible,
but let’s make the impossible possible.
That all this mistrust,
is falling to dust.
Let us re-write the past,
before this chance has passed.
What I feel is pure,
but my heart needs cure.
Maybe one day there is a new trend,
I feel deep within this is not the end.
There will come a new sunny bright day,
when we find a new way.
With love and devotion,
loving miracle in motion.
I will never give up the hope in my heart,
that one day there will be a new start.
A sunrise in the sky,
while together, we are reaching high.
Spirit of White, France, 3.12.2023