Hope
I find hope in small placesβ in the way everything looks brighter after rain; in the thin gold line of morning beneath a sleepless sky. It lives in quiet thingsβ the soft sounds of awakening, the scent of earth after storms, the way I never give up, even when I want to. Not every wound closes cleanlyβ not every grief leaves, but still, somewhere, a flower pushes through cracked stone unexpectedly; And sometimes, that is enoughβ to witness something continue, soft and stubborn, despite everything.
Written for my prompt βhope in small placesβ.
Jo xo


This feels grounded and sincere. <3
Love this.