Hope Doesn’t Fold

beautifulmoon

Hope
stumbles not forever.

It climbs steps,
hills,

then mountains

steady and straight

though it’s gait
sometimes hesitates in vicious storms.

Yet, it always performs.

Lifts its members from the bull’s horns
tossing them in angry scorn.

Temporarily bruised, beaten, torn
maybe bleeding

sadly forlorn

remember,

for this is the time
for which ‘hope’ is born.

Desiring good
based on solid ‘faith’–

evidence;
also promises made;

always kept.

‘The God of comfort’
never sleeps

although his sheep
weary

temporarily
slept.

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