Poetic Corner: Writing to Love, Writing to Hope

Poetic Corner: Writing to Love, Writing to HopeSometimes, before the words appear on the page, we have to stop and look at ourselves.
This poem began with a moment when I wanted to write, but nothing came. I stood up, looked at my reflection, and began asking myself two simple questions: Am I happy? Do I feel love?
The answers led me somewhere I did not expect.
I thought about the pages I have turned, the chapters I have finished, the regrets I carry, the memories I treasure, and everything I have experienced—the sadness and the joy, the falling and the getting up.
And I realized that, despite the chaos and unfairness I sometimes see in the world, I am happy.
Because I feel love.
Love for my family, my friends, the people around me, and somehow, for the world itself. I may not be able to change everything or repair all its broken pieces, but I can try. I can speak. I can write. I can create. I can offer a little kindness.
And perhaps that is one of the ways love travels—from one person to another, through our words, our stories, and the little pieces of ourselves we leave behind.
This is another poem in my Poetic Corner series.
A poem about love, happiness, hope, and the reason I continue to write.
I write for love.
I write for happiness.
I write for hope.
I write for you.
And that is why I write.

by emma ugarelli

​Writing to Love, Writing to Hope Today I tried to write,
but the words would not come.
So I stood up
and stared at my reflection.
The time has passed.
The seasons have changed.
And so have I.
Looking at myself,
I asked:
Am I happy?
Do I feel love?
In my life,
I have turned so many pages,
finished so many chapters,
left some behind
and carried others with me.
Regrets?
Yes,
I have a few.
But I also have memories,
accomplishments,
lessons,
and dreams that still
have not learned how to end.
I have lived
the sadness and the joy,
the falling
and the getting up.
I have experienced it all.
And still,
I look again at my reflection
and answer:
Yes.
I am happy.
I feel love.
And I have learned
to accept myself.
I give love
to my family,
to my friends,
to the people around me,
and, somehow,
to the world.
A world that can be
unfair, chaotic,
and sometimes
almost impossible to understand.
I cannot change everything.
I cannot repair
all its broken pieces.
But I can try.
I can speak.
I can write.
I can create.
I can offer a little kindness
where I find a place for it.
Because love--
Love is a force
that moves us.
It begins somewhere
deep inside,
and then
it travels.
I love my partner.
I love my parents.
I love my children.
I love my grandchildren.
And somehow,
that love refuses
to stay inside me.
It spreads,
like a magical sheet
covering the world--
not with my hands,
but with my words.
With my stories.
With the little pieces of myself
that I leave behind
for someone else to find.
So yes,
I am happy.
I sit down again.
I take my place
in front of the blank page.
And this time,
the words come.
I write for love.
I write for happiness.
I write for hope.
I write for you.
And that is why
I write.