The Word Written on my Heart

Hope filled my lungs,

Oxidizing my blood,

Which ran to my heart,

And comforted my feet,

Which ached from the stones that had shouted their anger. 

Hope splashed onto my cheek on a lovely spring day,

Both surprising and delighting me,

For I knew it was the prayer of the flowers. 

Hope was the colored glass that broke up the monotonous light,

As it streamed through the church window,

And fell upon the folded hands of the beggars. 

Hope was the kiss of the lover,

That tempted the soul,

And whispered ideas of eternity. 

Hope looked me in the eyes,

Saw the color of my desire,

And etched its name into my heart.