Hope Is More Than A Bird With Out Feathers

Hope is more than wing with feathers— It is the hush of dusk in the orchard, Where shadows play among the branches, And the stars slip shyly into bloom. It is the hush of dawn on the water, When mist clings to the lake’s quiet breast, And lilies unfurl with trembling grace— Hope is in the hush before the lark sings. It is the strength of roots in the darkness, The push of petals through winter’s frost, The first breath of green on a stubborn branch, Hope is the promise the heart can’t betray. It is the hush that waits in the silence— The hush that grows despite despair, Hope is more than wings or feathers— It is the hush that holds the world.