A hope in flight

                 I fly. Finding roots among the trees. That
of grabbing leaves, clinging to my pale soul. Beckoning
my air to fall below. Oh I listen to the wind. Holding onto
the depth of my whispers, the layered thoughts and
caress the ever growing dreams.

                So still I remain only to realize my almond
storms are flashing, flickering. Trying so hard to keep
a hold of the vivid displays parading over closed lids.

                Carefully I sigh. Slowly opening my eyes,
vacant is the room yet the thrashing in my memory is
full and clear. Not quite ready to let go, I quietly breathe.
Hoping the soothing exhales find depth. Creating a
core of calmness.

                Oh how the release of emotions explode. I am
wanting so much to tell someone, anyone. Yet I only
pray. Glancing upwards to the tickling breeze, I
give thanksgiving to Jehovah for listening.

                 Shh the mind is eased. The warmth of
the sleep finds the chill, leaning into the hope. I dare
not voice what already screams in my head. Dear
me, I listen to the softness of moisture awaken my
spirit. A gentle kiss lays across my forehead as a
murmur beckons a voice.

                A tiny glimmer of a smile creases over cracked
pale roses. So kind is the shine in a memory, a dream
and a daring hope. A wonder of a thought. One that
journeys throughout years. Holding, searching and
waiting.

                Yes it holds a name but is branched throughout
four declared definitions. Ah and what bit is felt?
Only Jehovah knows the depth of the answer. Only
he knows the heart.

                 My flight is seeking, reaching out for that
dream. The one spoken in a memory across my grays
and stinging deep in my heart. Perhaps a smile will
define layers of resistance, torn. In time that Jehovah
will open.

               Indeed a hope.