Poems of the Atmos

Hope. 18th - 22nd February, 2019.

Hope is a feeling every living thing exhibits
Knowingly or unknowingly.
Some might interchange it with "expectation"
Of optimism; the optimist's soul which carries this warm light in their eyes.

Hope is nice. Gives meaning to now and yesterday.
'Lest it be proven vain.
Then I can only wistfully smile and let the sweeter memories damper this pain here...and now.
Ah...that's nostalgic.

Though a pained smile still remains.

Hope is us once watching the flowers bud again to see them bloom and die again.
Years go by and we still did the same thing.
Expecting nothing new, but hoping for the same nostalgic magic once again.
And strangely, every season then remains distinct. Somehow.

Hope is me standing here again under the same tree we used to watch and listen to
As it taught us of the beautiful things in the world.
And feeling you beside me though we both know you've long since become one with the rain of scented fuchsia....

Hey,
Hope is a strange thing...isn't it?
In this case, it doesn't hurt but rather makes me at ease.
Like the certainty of changing seasons, I know I'll watch this tree with you.
Some day.
Some how.
One day.

I can only hope that, this time next year, this tree will still be here standing.
Waiting for us
As it blooms, sheds, and buds once again.

As it stands
All living things live to die
As those fated to die seek to live.
So hope eternally burns for the tomorrow yet to come.

And maybe

-Just maybe-

We'll meet again and I can love you once more.

A/N: Written for @WP_Poetry's "February has Affection" Contest.