A Woman's Hope

A woman’s hope is sometimes strong it shows unbending love. Hope is flickering like a candle in the wind; look closely the tiny dancer is in the flames of purification of a hope not in vain. For the creator’s wounds were freshly bound and reclaimed so hope would live and proudly proclaim victory over the darkness of an enigma or our own paradox within our ego’s closet. There our ego stands without light or understanding with ego’s voice to listen to it’s self alone. Hope has buried deep in the folds of the death of ego’s reign. Giving up all to let the tender light let it go to the beyond of knowing. The death proclaims no victory over the living fire of hope’s love, freed to live within me.

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