by Regan Stradtmann-Carvalho
Hope is a thing
Without gravity
But with a timer.
An internal bomb
Causally ticking the seconds down
Until
The clearly labeled date of
Expiration.
It defies logic
And delights in fantasy.
Hope wakes us up in the morning,
Puts us to bed at night,
And is only for those dwelling on earth.
We may sometimes misplace it,
But shall never lose it completely
For when we do
We close our
Hearts,
Minds,
Eyes
For the last time.
Death is for the hopeless,
Or the clumsy.
No matter the weight of a situation,
Our hope remains buoyant
For
Hope is a thing without gravity.