Hope

By: Chris Hughes

gentle souls
of romantic nature
glitter with the
luster of gold
each is borne
by whimsical current
seeking the solace
of a singular kind
some to be trapped
in swirling dead-end pools
or ground to dust
upon unyielding stones
yet the future is as unsettled
as the bed of a river
and so a divine countenance
might smile down from aloft
cradling two shimmering spirits
patiently sifting away
the grime of disappointed dreams
melding the two
into a wonderous treasure
a shining circle of gold
enduring to the edge of time