On Hope

by Roger Black

 Hope sleeps and dreams of sweet scents
of rose and jasmine 
When she awakens she is thirsty
and drinks holy water.

Hope is hot, the Earth is hot.
She wishes something would stop
the forests burning.
But doesn't know who to turn to.

Maybe you dear reader.
Do you know what to do?
To save us from ourselves.
When I awake I stare into your eyes 

and say 
Good Morning. There's always Hope.