Category Archives: hope

“The Coming Winter” by Krista Detor

“The Coming Winter” by Krista Detor

If we could be sure
this was the beginning
of the end of this mad dark
that we would not wake up
dreading another weary morning
wondering what new low
cruelty happened overnight
But we can’t know
at this point and just like
other black bottomless pit times
we have to keep breathing
maybe smile at someone
Find something today to be grateful for
Yes, it seems trite maybe
too small to make any difference
but this is how we will travel
to the other side—in baby steps
one foot, one breath
holding to some hope
like a balloon tied to a wrist
in a strong wind
but still holding on.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2025

From my poetic journal on 10/1/25

Listening to “The World Is Water”

9/30/25

Listening to “The World Is Water”

by Krista Detor

I don’t know what to tell you
about navigating these dark waters
how to get from day to next day
to some safe shore in the distance
Songs running in my head
are essential to me, a soundtrack
of vibrations that ground me and calm

And of course, I have been
on this boat before, heading off to the horizon
no guarantees of the outcome
Yet to persist, knowing at some point
I will land on the other side
and I (you) will look back
and the journey might seem inevitable

yet it wasn’t. I walk baby steps in a direction
determined, patient, trusting
somehow managing to hold on
to keep breathing. So, stop for now
Listen to this song and breathe it in
no matter the dire daily news
the discomfort of uncertainty
Hold on. Reach out. Breathe.
Find something beautiful
For a moment be grateful.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2025

From my poetic journal

Nationwide Protest

For anyone who has been
paying attention
the ditch we find ourselves in
was the obvious destination
all the accumulation
of micro-choices and not choosing
all the heads in the sand
the failure of imagination
And yet in the cycling of everything as it
inevitably does, time moving along
this too shall pass
And the days ahead
will be shaped by what we do
with what was given
with what words are spoken aloud
Do not despair
it is not hopeless
I will admit
it is monstrously dark
but now you can see
all the united pinpoints of light
gathering in the crowded streets

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2025

From my poetic journal,
written after the first “No Kings” protest in June.

Spheres of Influence

(Conversation during surgery with Dr. James Lahti)

The smallest sphere
over which you have some control
some potential influence
is close around you
like an ample balloon skin
In that sphere it is possible
someone might listen
(like you, even)
might pay attention
be swayed, persuaded
by your passion or conviction
might choose to change

The next sphere out
a bit larger, more diffuse
more indirect, you may still
affect the outcome
Your intensity, thoughtfulness
your clarity, honesty
can elevate the energy
enough to shift
something, someone

Start where you are
do not wait for perfection
Do what you can
Breathe. Rest often

The biggest sphere—
over which you have no control
is most of everything
But with others, in the aggregate
you may move recalcitrant mountains
Alone—nothing. Together—maybe
And in that sphere if you
in your naïve intensity
in your innocent propensity
put all your life energy, your belief
in fairness, the way life should be
you will burn out your engine
spinning your tires until they shred
and you are left with a husk

So…don’t do that
spend all your preciousness
on nothing.
FOCUS
your innate inner light where it can
do the most good in the day to day
Join others who are like-minded
Notice and step back when you’ve slipped
into spinning your wheels to no end

Do it for yourself, for all of us
for now and ever. Amen.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
© 2025

From my poetic journal
9/16/25

Mom’s High School Boyfriend

Mom and Me in 2009 Copyright MDMikus

Mom’s High School Boyfriend

If war had not come
and he had lived on and
they had stayed together
I would not have been born.

The unique combination of genes
the lattice upon which I grew to be
the one choosing this path for myself
all that would not…exist

here and now anyway
whatever you believe about
alternate universes where
the other forks in the road were taken.

My potential existence hung uncontrolled
on so much unbeknownst to me—
the baby yet to come—then
if war and chaos and despair

had not shaken the world
like a snow globe but violent
and at the conclusion settled back into
a sailor and a nurse meeting

through mutual friends, marrying
in their common parish church
raising seven children
me being the second.

Margaret Dubay Mikus
(c) 2015

Published in Journal of Modern Poetry, vol. 20, (2017) The Poetry Writer’s Guide to the Galaxy