Hope Has Feathers

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As I travel through life, there always are times
when choices, though hard, but decisions must be made
I stare at solutions with frank stare
the clouds gather over my eyes
the rain seems to soak my parade
yet I put up a genuine charade
flap the wings of hope and fly

As high as hope might seem
there are some situations where all I can do
is simply let go and move on,
gather my frail courage and choose a direction
that carries me in the mercy of the wind
toward a new dawn;
my wings I stay and spread
as I fly effortless.
I pack up my troubles in a single sigh
and take a glide forward with a knowing smile.
The process of change can be tough,
but all I think about as I fly
is the excitement that lies ahead.

Hope has feathers,
if flies me to adventures never imagined
just waiting around the next bend.
There where the tunnel is darkest
a smiling silver line lingers longing for me.
Wishes and dreams just about to come true
in ways I can’t yet comprehend.

Hope has feathers,
so on I fly
on the wings of good to better

Perhaps I’ll happen on places I never expected
and see things that I’ve never seen

Perhaps I’ll find friendships
that spring from new rainbow lines
after the storm is done bragging
as I challenge the status quo,
and learn there are so many options in life
than fears,
than worries,
than sad tales,
than sorry stories.

Hope has feathers
that carry my weary soul to travels fabulous,
to adventures in faraway worlds
and wonderful spots in between—
that spot of indecision,
where here and there meets.

Perhaps I’ll find comfort in knowing my friends
are supportive of all that I do,
and believe that whatever decisions I make,
are just the right choices for me

And when I fail
they’ll be there to urge me on again.

Hope has feathers
that sings the tune of bright sides without words
and never ever stops
to flap flap flap
even I fall fall fall.

Perhaps I’ll find warmth and affection
and somebody special who’s there down the valley
when I fall worn and famished,
to help me stay cantered and listen as I sob;
and when I’m done
will mend my wings and teach me how to fly.

Hope has feathers
that carry my dreams above clouds
and perch on the Sun
just when the world thought
I’ll melt to my core.
So I keep putting one foot in front of the other,
and taking my life week by week though I’m weak,
day by day when I’m hale, when I’m gay.

Hope has feathers
that beats the gale to it’s game
that though sore the storm
and dark the night sky
yet, never in conditions extreme
shall settle for less or little
or ask for crumb
when at the mountain peak
are laid tables for me.
I know there’s a brighter tomorrow
and it’s just down the road –
I wouldn’t look back!
I’m not headed that way!

Hope has feathers
it keeps warm my dreams
when frost bites
and chilly the breeze.

Hope has feathers
It flies above circumstances.