HOPE
By Frances Harris
Hope is an elusive vein
that ripples through humanity,
A treasured quality,
not an object, not a thing,
But something that
keeps the heart beating steadily,
When everything seems
lost,
Hope encourages us to
explore, to ask, to review,
To look in places where
we previously did not,
Hope rides on the back
of new ideas, discoveries, inventions,
And most of all, it is
the reason why we don’t give up,
Hope shines in the eyes
of a child, a new parent, a teacher,
Always present, it is
ours to grasp, if we will,
Those among us, when we
find hope, grab on to it with both hands,
Because we know it is
real,
In hope we learn the value of the wait,
patience, generosity,
Because from these
things, new promises come forward,
More than gold or
silver, hope leads us toward meaning,
It offers us new
beginnings,
Hope is the wellspring
of fresh clean waters,
If not for us, then for
others passing through this existence,
It is good will, magnified,
purified and ours if we care to reach out for it,
Hope never dies; it passed
through, from one to another.
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