Such a simple word, hope. The very act of believing it gone awakens it somehow. Sometimes in those hours when hope seems lost, you will hear a song, see a sunrise, remember that silly thing you said, or look up at the beauty of the unattainable stars. Then, if you listen carefully the sound of hope rises like a great wind, all around us, each moment filled with memories pulling us back to the place where all things were possible; a place we never really left. We wait for hope to come round like a force of nature — to take us past the tough times and deposit us safe and sound on the distant shore — but in truth hope never comes to us.
It is us.
whoisfenton 