Optimism is a pair of glasses that soak up the sun.
Through them, amidst the darkness of a supercell cloud,
we see the unclouded serenity of the heavens.
Optimism is not naivety. It acknowledges the path
past Scylla and Charybdis; it sees the altars along the desert.
It walks with its gaze fixed far ahead, upon wide horizons,
arm in arm with hope—the visionary’s companion.
Optimism does not tell the sick in their beds
"it will be fine," for things are not always fine.
It offers no glib forecasts to a warring world,
nor does it amuse us with cheap, frivolous laughter.
It relies on strength from within and from above,
on the spring bloom following the frost,
on life born from a barely visible seed.
Optimism warms us with a quiet, refined joy.
It is a light that remains undimmed in the mind
when we summon it as a friend.
-
Author:
Lily of the valley (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 29th, 2026 04:52
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 18
- Users favorite of this poem: Mutley Ravishes
- In collections: Chiaroscuro.
Offline)
Comments2
Pessimism's easy, isn't it? Beautiful write, Durdica.
Yes, thanks. I agree. Pessimism is when you just sit and complain.
This poem makes a fine distinction between optimism and naive thought. It's positivism is a key to happiness. Nicely done Durdica
Thanks a lot, Mr Sorenbarrett.
You are very welcome Durdica
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.