Thursday, September 16, 2010


I hold hope in my hand
It is tiny and fragile
Like a small bird newly born
So when fear steps in
I must resist the urge
To clench too tightly
To crush the hope
I need most then
Instead let my hands
My heart
My being
Be open
Hope to be realized
Must leave me
And enter the world
To grow its wings
Fly to the hand
The heart
The being
Of all

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