Poem: Hope

It does not blaze like the morning sun,
Nor trumpet loud when battles won,
It flickers softly, a hidden spark—
A candle lit against the dark.

When shadows press and voices fade,
When even prayers seem slow, delayed,
It whispers not of grander skies,
But lifts the soul that still replies.

It lives beneath the heaviest sigh,
A quiet fire that won’t let die,
The part of you that dares to see
Not what is, but what might be.

It grows not louder, yet never leaves,
A thread that winds through fallen dreams,
It’s in the breath you thought you lost,
The choice to stay, despite the cost.

No storm can snuff it, though it bends,
It breaks, it mends, it breaks again—
Yet from within, it still will rise,
A second sun behind your eyes.

So when the world feels cold and thin,
Remember: hope begins within.

Thank-you for reading.

Much love and Light,

Brenda Marie Fluharty