Hope comes in all sizes,
tiny as a ladybug on your finger.
Snowflakes, unique, present for a second,
brilliance of natures' perfection.
Hope is always there to call upon.
When you are distraught, need to improve,
bone dry, in need of sustenance,
lost in the dark, no light to move.
A passenger in a train
carries a paper, sits next to a stranger.
She can't get her baby quieted down,
the gentleman makes faces like a clown.
Suddenly a loud noise is heard.
A man screams, riddled by embedded glass.
Cradled by a dead mother's arms,
a crying baby, pulled to safety by a blind Bozo.
Hope is a universal need.
It ties us together as human mortals.
We all hurt; bleed, love, hunger, thirst,
question but search for spiritual power?
In the end, we are nothing.
The flesh is gone, the bones decay.
The essence of who we are,
lives on in memories of those we touch today.
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