Hope (4)

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At first hope is the dream of the lost

Searching for land in a landless sea,

Looking at the horizon to see a coast

Heralding that the future is something to be.

 

Then hope transforms into a beacon of light

Lighting the way for those yet to come,

Guiding the searcher through the darkening night

With a vision of what can be done.

 

Then hope emerges with a new disguise

Offering optimism and a positive view,

It says all is well and looks with bright eyes

Into the future with a vigor new.

 

Then hope becomes a feeling that is hard to resist—

It passes from person to person, lifting their mood;

It heals and it eases, ready to assist,

Better than any physical food.

 

Then hope is active and brings action to play

It’s a goal, aim or target that beckons and shines;

It promises tomorrow will be a better day

That somewhere on Earth there are gentler climes.

 

Then hope surrenders to a higher plan

Petitioning for help it asks from above;

It brings union and harmony

‘tween the universe and man

And is akin to its sister—love.

 

In its next incarnation, hope becomes us

We are the future who herald the new:

A new human model is here—without fanfare or fuss

 

It could be me; it could be you.

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-  Joanna Infeld