Poem of Hope
Soft as breath on a waiting day.
It hums beneath the weight of night,
Whispering, you’ll find your way.
When roads are rough and skies feel low,
Hope learns to walk with patient feet.
It plants a seed in fractured ground
And trusts the rain it cannot see.
Hope is the hand that lifts your chin,
The courage born from falling twice.
It says, Begin again, and means
There’s beauty still at any price.
So hold it close when storms appear—
This fragile flame, this stubborn art.
For hope lives strongest, truest, bright
Inside the brave and beating heart.
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