Hope is the fragile child
Waiting at the seashore
For Wisdom to pick her up
And carry her into the waves.
Together they float in the sea,
Spreading themselves in the currents.
Hope is a tall tapered candle
In a room with no mirrors.
Though its wick is a mere string
Its flame brightens the air.
Its light is not reflected,
But it fills the space with solace.
Hope is a message on the bulletin board,
To be read again and again
By various passersby.
It only has one line:
“Follow me and don’t be afraid.”
As it is passed it flutters a little,
Being held by a mere push pin.
© 2017 Valerie Hathaway