Hope stands in the divide

of what was and what will be.

She lifts her head into the wind

and defies the call to only acknowledge

the pain and loss of yesteryear.

She defies the call to only acknowledge

promises unseen.

Hope digs her heels

into the soil of what is.

Unmoved. Unshaken.

Hope bridges the two with arms extended.

One hand in the past.

The other in the future.

And she laughs