Hope is most tangible in the morning, when the sun is rising and filling the warm air with haze. While flowers are waking up and rediscovering their purpose, and when bunnies hop along in the lush, dew-damp blades.
Then, when hope is real, I feel her silky feathers tickle my palms as I stretch and chase after her haphazard, jubilant flight. She sings a song, calling out to hearts, that today is a day for life! I follow her, sprinting and darting in her wake. Until I realize that hope is most tangible when I set her free to fly.
And then I fly with her.
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