George and Hope, Falling Back in Love

It would be easy for this poem to fall back on an easy cliche: George lost his Hope, but he's found it again...but love is not so easy—in the first place, it asks you to fall into itself, but it makes no promises of an easy landing on your feet, or right-way-up, and this is only the start of more and more demands to come. It lures us in on the wings of a feeling, but soon, many of us find ourselves climbing a mountain in the dark—the light of the honeymoon: gone out. It can be tragically easy, in the night, to forget the face of the one whose hand we hold, held on a promise so enthusiastically made, once upon a gentler time, but often, with age or with stress, or by some other pain, our grip becomes solely tightened by fear of having nothing, no one left. But this is when love demands of us the most: at our darkest hour our faith in eachother must bu rn bright; we must feel our love's face, trace their lips with ours, squeeze their hand tighten promise and the wings of trust and our own promise made: leap and fall together again!