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

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