If there is hope then it lies in the potholes we see each day, when we drive to work or school and dread the journey but still stand on our path and hope for the time to return because we know home is always home.
If there is hope then it lies in the crevices of our lovers, when we run our hands down their cheeks and arms and want to hold them right but still we don’t because we’re afraid they’ll awake too soon.
If there is hope then it lies in deep deep trenches of the seas and oceans, where we’ve never ventured and probably never will but we still sit and imagine and dream of the beauty that’s in them.
If there is hope then it lies in the dust of an old bookshelf, when we wipe it with our hands as we reach for a book we know is too thick but we take it anyway because we yearn to learn and read and know.
If there is hope then it lies in the path to the mountain tops, where we walk and walk as we try to touch the bottom of the sky even though we know we might not make it past the flag but yet we climb and climb up high.
If there is hope then it lies in the premises of our souls, when we lay awake in bed, late at night and think of tomorrow morning and pray for a better day, knowing we could be disappointed and yet we lay there and pray for something more, something out of you and i that wants more, more from ourselves, more from those around us, more from life.
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