Hope makes itself every day
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Hello friends,
Recently, I’ve been filling my feeds with poems. I’ve been following poetry accounts on Instagram (such as this one), and reading newsletters like
by here on Substack.It feels like the very opposite of doomscrolling; that every time I open my phone and find myself on social media, there’s something meaningful waiting for me there — some thought or phrase I can carry with me as I go about the rest of my day, my two little girls in tow.
The title of this post is one such phrase. It comes from the poem “Window,” by Naomi Shihab Nye:
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