Amanda Estelle Réhel

The years stretch before me

Endless and vast.

They pass with the bleak chill of winter

And slow heat of summer.

I wait.

I will always be waiting.

I do not want my hope to be


One day I want to see

A spark of colour

Passing through my long dark winter, my long bright summer.

Sparks are brief,

Possessing the ability to give birth to fire,

To heat.

Why do I still hope for my bleak existence to change?

In the infinite amount of years that have passed

With no change

And the infinite amount of years in my future

That could change,

Sparse as it is, grey is my shade of hope.

It is my tints,

My shades.

My reason.

I need–

Orange, blue, yellow, purple, red, green.

Strength leaves me;

Breathless and dazzled.


My spark.

Contrasting with the stark bleakness

Of my cold reality.

Strength returns to me

Igniting the spark

Into flame.

I am filled with potential.

For warmth,

For ferocity,

For serenity.

My years stretch before me

Infinitely gratifying.

They pass with the warmth of summer

And biting intensity of winter.


About the Writer

Amanda is an English and Professional Writing major at York University. She writes poems on her own time and uses her art to expand her thinking. Her life is full of art, words and flavourful tea.

Editor: Sun, Chief Editor of Poetry

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