Hope

Photo by Aleksandr Ledogorov on Unsplash

I find hope in small places—
in the way everything 
looks brighter after rain;
in the thin gold line of morning
beneath a sleepless sky.

It lives in quiet things—
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 cleanly—
not every grief leaves,
but still, somewhere,
a flower pushes through cracked stone
unexpectedly;

And sometimes, that is enough—
to witness something continue,
soft and stubborn,
despite everything.

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Written for my prompt “hope in small places”.

Jo xo