Hope

Hope is the thing with petals
smiling towards the sun.
A yellow beam of light
streaming across a dark room.
Hope is a rose with no petals
bursting into full bloom.

Hope is what we wish for;
a paintbrush poised over pristine paper,
rainbow palette in hand.
Hope is a rope we cling to
when the ground gives way
beneath our feet.

Hope is waking up to see
morning’s hazy first light;
the new dawn unfolding.
Hope is joy and dreams;
what just could be;
shafts of sun peeking through a cloudy day.

Hope is taking baby steps
to reach the summit,
knowing you can survive
anything and everything.
Hope is embracing life,
believing in the wonder
when there’s nothing left.

Hope is what we are grateful for:
a caring voice on the phone,
a letter from a friend,
a family to love,
a walk hand in hand with your lover.

Hope is a tiny shard of light
escaping a crack beneath the door;
a willingness to cross a threshold to worlds unknown,
open to endless possibilities.