By Arlene Nayak
Hope is a bird
Soaring through the air
Perched on the tree of life
Cutting through the clouds;
Of darkness and despair.
Hope is an ant
A little tiny thing
But able to carry lots of weight;
Never stopping for disappointment;
Big in a different way.
Hope is a little plant
Growing between the cracks of life
Shooting up to the sun
Sprouting in the gloomiest of places,
A tiny flicker of green
That grows into a tree.
Hope is a mother
A sign of care and love;
Bringing new joy to the world;
Comfort during tough times
A bringer of a new start.
Hope is a flicker of light
A matchstick in the darkness
A fire in a cold, black, cave;
Lighting up and brightening,
The pathway to happiness.
By Arlene Nayak
Комментарии