Hope

Hope, a fragile word, a gentle kiss, A loving clasp, an encouraging word. It’s the voice of heaven,like a whisper, Light as a feather it touches our hearts, In moments of deep despair, With the promise of new beginnings.

Hope is the first breath of the morning, The dew drops on the unfolding flower. The call of the bulbuls, the answering finches, The gentle breeze in the rustling leaves, Nature’s beauty and all creation, Celebrating the birth of a new day .

Hope is the roll of the white tipped waves, Frolicking with the rise and ebb of tide. The white snow topped mountains, Reflecting the first rays of the sun, The clear waters of the stream, Dancing down the steep incline .

Hope is the smile of the silver moon, The shimmering stars in a sky stretched dark, Hinting at yet another dawn . It is the first cry of each new life, The wrinkled face of the wise old man .

Hope smiles through our tears, Laughs at our fears, our doubts. Helps us to rise after each fall, Whispering of second chances, To live each day with the renewed, Hope of a better tomorrow.