Sensing hope

By Andrew DiNardo

I see

Hope

In every life

Breathing in, out

Frail but upheld

I hear

Hope

Springing up

It’s faint

But real

I taste

Hope

At the table

With a friend

With a stranger

I touch

Hope

And I am healed

Weak still

But leaning, learning

I smell

Hope

Following a rain

Needed

Restoring

I sense

Hope

That can’t be shamed

That knows no county line

That can heal, does heal