You don’t notice her at first,
how she clings to the walls,
dressed in mundane clothes
mimicking the dull and ragged crowd.
She blends in with a hint of spirit
that you catch in a rare meeting of eyes.
It’s hard to believe that Hope is simply there…
waiting patiently for you to notice her.
Wouldn’t she come in louder?
Vivid and vibrant, announcing some great
proclamation of defiance?

Yet there she stands quietly,
a knowing up tilt of a half-smile
as she offers you a hand.
When had you fallen
to make her suddenly look so tall?
The hand, soft and gentle, is powerful
pulling you back up to your feet.
She gracefully slides closer,
your heart picking up speed.
Hope leans toward your ear,
voice dropping to a whisper.

“Whenever you need me,
simply look up and listen close.
I won’t ever be too far
from your side.”
Then as sudden as she leaned in,
Hope pulls away,
the scent of her honeydew conditioner calming
your nerves. You start to realize
you’re still gripping her hand.
As you apologize, she lifts a finger to her lips,
strawberry lotion slightly adrift.
“Till we meet again.”

Then she disappears into the room,
her scent, feel and voice still enwrapping
your whole self like an old friend.
Left in wonder, the dream of Hope
dulls the aches and tides of life.
And you know she meant every word,
that when you’re at the lowest moment,
look up and Hope will appear
when you allow her to finally draw near.