Hope is the seed that clings to wet earth
Germinates, penetrates fertile soil
Flourishes with the richest of nutrients
Stretches up to embrace spring rains
Spreads with the warm caress of the sun
A country rises (or collapses)
With the strength of the hope it grows
Everyone striving to feed the seeds
Communities full of gardeners
Open arms of mothers and fathers
Each glade a bouquet of wishes fulfilled
But where does hope go
When it has no home
When it is told repeatedly No
When it is not wanted
When too often trampled?
How does it survive when neglected
In arid gardens, depleted planters
The cracked edges of tenement steps
Covered with freshly shed blood
On the sides of dusty highways
Reaching for, seeking sunlight
That beautiful seed
That could be Amanda
And once was George
Still filled with potential
Still able to perform miracles
Is deemed a detested weed
Sprayed spaded hated negated
Hope eradicated
Hope floats through the dreams
That get us through the darkest of nights
Hope is the seed that keeps us breathing
Hope grows in a vivid rainbow of colors
Unmindful of high hills or origins
Hope could save our languishing nation
If we help nurture each others’ gardens
Painting, “Spring has Sprung,” Kay Smith. ArtSpan.com
