so, through our desolation,
thoughts stir, inspiration stalks us
through gloom -H.D.
Does hope really have feathers?
Or is it a green,
fresh thing
springing up
from the ground?
Or a tiny speck of light
like the occasional spot
that appears
in a photograph
invisible through the lens
but there, on the image
Or is hope a dark,
insubstantial thing
that follows
like a shadow,
stalking you
wherever you go
That movement
at the edge
of your vision
that feeling you get
sometimes
that you’re not alone
What is hope?
I don’t know, exactly
but I do know it’s there.
If you can’t find it just wait,
perhaps hope will find you
In Other Words 