I woke up this morning full of hope.
Hope that yesterday was not just a dream
of a forgotten time.
The chattering birds singing in the dawn
poems written in the air
as dawn streamed in.
I longed to bring it to you
as I did your morning coffee:
hot, steamy, awakening your soul.
As mine was this daybreak
because of hope.
One reply on “Hope”
Ironic I had hope again this morning because of yesterday. But there will always be hope when there is breath as the Latin saying goes.