Hope is a Bird Wordless that Sings

I watch first rains on dusty countryside, And know, no pathways etched are by despair, And yet, hope comes like first showers to guide, Give ample hints on how to go and where. And a way out appears from nowhere, With hope in heart walked hast man longer miles On dead stretches, pathless alone that veer, In darkling woods as in deserted isles. Like migrating birds that on wide wings ride, Hope seems to come on one’s own latent dare, And sings eternal spring songs, fear decried, Worry's no fond word, nor is fall unfair, In hope man casts his net, wishes to snare, To men of hope a begging bowl beguiles, Busy that catch oyster pearls with hands bare, Let darkling woods dare in deserted isles. Yet, those that in great fear for time would bide, Tying limbs and minds in ropes in mundane care, Whence, wonder I, would hope come with fair pride, How would fount hope in despair, all so rare? It's hope, life survives from its wear and tear, Hope, to walk free from edge of knife, time’s wiles, And hope ‘tis that makes life easy to bear, When darkling woods dare and life itself riles. Envoi So, let raindrops on dust never despair, The first rainfall in hope hast carved out isles In its diligent due concern and care, That darkling woods dare, nor life ever riles. ___________________________________________ Musings (Ballade)| 02.02.2011 | hope