For a long time, I thought my hope was infinitesimally small,
And in my mind, I separated it from my wish.
These two notions seemed opposite in my soul,
And it took me a while to notice my error or to distinguish:
My wish is like a warm summer breeze,
It brings me desires and it does not feel wrong.
My hope is the light that passes through trees,
Bright in its persistence, it lasts for long.
If only wish was my inner force, doubts would appear
Soon I would stop dreaming and would not feel bold.
Hope moves me in directions I did not expect, with no fear
“The thing with feathers” is real and in my mind is not cold.
Kristina
Thursday June 25th, 2020
Commentaires