Hope was the laughter,

The kind you can hear –

And the kind you can see,

In the eyes of the children,

Hope was the meanings,

Choosing to see to see,

Not because we have,

Eyes rolling in our skulls. 

Hope was the trust,

That every step I took,

Was one step closer,

To finding myself, here.

Hope was the beauty,

In everything that lived,

That kept a  space within, 

For every other thing to live.

Hope was the love,

Pushing us toward a centre,

So that our tempers could match, 

The exhiliration of the pull.

Hope was the tomorrows,

Where freedom might be waiting. 

When everything of today is lost, 

So what matters might be still found.

Hope is born in me,

Something I can be,

If you want me to be,

If you will let me be.

© A Fantazien Window 2023