What is hope?
Is it the dew drops on the leaves
on a misty autumn morning?
Is it the galaxy of stars
on a deep dark summer sky?
Is it the cool drops of rain
on the parched sandy desert?
Is it the first ray of sun
on the snowy blanket over grass?
So what is hope, i ask again?
Hope is a profound word.
Its perspective constantly changes
Like the phases of the moon.
That’s how Nature depicts hope.
Bit by bit the moon grows
and diminishes in the same way,
until darkness consumes it altogether.
Again it arcs into the infinite sky…
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