Hope Is A Bird Wordless That Sings

Unlike raindrops on dusty countryside, No lasting pathways etched are by despair, But hope comes like a rain shower to guide, O to give ample hints— how to go where. With hope in heart walked have I longer miles, And a way out from nowhere appears— From darkling woods as from barren lost isles— On desert stretches a path haply veers. Much like a migrating bird on fair wings, Hope seems to come when there's no one to call, Silent it sings songs of eternal springs: Worry's not my ward, far off still is fall. In hope man casts his fishnet to net wish, A man so poor, a begging bowl alive, Catches oyster pearls in nets but for fish, O from nowhere somewhere sure to arrive. Yet, those that in abject fear would hope not, Tying up limbs and minds in tighter ropes, Whence, wonder I, would come a hopeful thought, Whence would fount that rare hope yon of all hopes? It's hope that life survives from thankless strife, Hope, to walk aside from the edge of knife, And hope is it O to make life so rife, Hope me think is another name for life. ______________________________________________________ Musings (Ode)| 02.02.11 |