The Making of Hope

Hope dwells in us,
It’s a lighted splinter,
Waiting to be rekindled.

Hope is latent in us,
It comes to the fore
through us and by us.

Hope is that shadow that walks with us,
The lesser the light,
More is readily available.

Hope sits in the dark with us,
It holds the periscope,
Encouraging us to look through.

Hope is a bird,
Its wings are strengthened
as we take strides.

The makings of hope,
Resides in us,
The emancipation of hope,
It’s our bidding.