Hope is this.
Hope is like a single drop of syrup from a sun-scorched sky.
Hope is naming the beast a prince.
Hope is like one little bud simply refusing leave the vase.
Hope is listening to the mix tape you made when you weren’t crying.
Hope is like a passport groaning for stamps.
Hope is “Singing in the Rain” in the Sahara.
Hope is like bruised bird crying at your back door.
Hope is kneading bread in the middle of the night.
Hope is like one rocking chair in an empty room.
Hope is smiling upon another’s utterance of just one word.
Hope is like a crisp new book cover.
Hope is leaving a shoe in the door, for the reason of “just in case.”
Hope is like a time machine that even a small child can operate.
Hope is drug without a child protective lock.
Hope is like finding the end without knowing the beginning.
Hope is like that.