Hope is a ‘thing’
That flies without wings!
She speeds us along,
Among doldrums and doubts,
Gives us a longing
That can endure a few bouts.
She’s summoned -ephemerally-
In times of distress
Could make one feel
As though she’s never left.
But then, again,
Being just and fair,
It seems there are times,
When she CAN’T be found-
NOWHERE
Do her feathers tire?
Or the engines run dry?
Might I win back her comforts
By again getting high?
Can I summon her, like Alexa,
To just COME BACK?!
Or? Why does she leave; at times,
Without leaving a track?
Can I capture her warmth
In an indestructible ‘black box’?
Found after disaster-
To explain HOW she was lost?
She must fly solo,
Adjusting to the winds-
She encapsulates ‘aspiring’
With her future visions...
Hope IS a thing...
Truest self