The Doe

a poem about Hope

What if that Hope

lay within our grasp?

A sliver, a touch

a slight blade of grass.

The faintest of shadows,

hardly visible to the eye.

Barely kissing reality,

a wisp of cloud in the sky.

---

What if it’s really there,

that which we thought passed us by?

What if it simply lingers

for exactly the right time?

It’ll soon show its face,

a quiet doe among the ferns.

Tenderly does it search,

a silent soul that softly burns.

---

Maybe we will find ourselves,

deep within that forest,

cast about with shadows,

still, trembling, and honest.

We will come face to face

with that doe that we call Hope.

Her gaze bestows courage,

a new strength to help us cope.

---

My darling dear

I know you fear

the great big wide unknown.

But with this Hope

that you hold near

your fears can have no hold.

So venture out,

and if you doubt,

think of the strong and gentle doe.

She’s with you now,

and was with you then—

you can always choose to Hope.