Morning light is growing
The trees in their blackness
Trace the sky
Like ink dripped and pulled
On soft gray paper
But the stars are still there
The ones that held your attention
In the middle of the long hours of darkness
Glimmers of hope
Beckoning you to look beyond
And think past where you have been and known
Past the push
The life that in all its glory
Rolls in a momentous fashion
Sometimes sweeping you into its chaos
Sometimes placing you gently on the bank
It’s good to have a focal point
When the world seems to be shifting
In every possible dimension
There is hope
There is always hope
Faithful Lines 