Hope

Hope sounds like birds twittering to each other.

Hope looks like wrapped presents.

Hope tastes like a fresh ripe strawberry.

Hope smells like a spring rain shower.

Hope feels like sitting on a porch swing watching a sunset.

I wrote this poem just over a year ago. When we thought I wouldn't live to my 12th birthday. Now, I am almost 13. Hope is still almost the same for me. Except now, hope is knowing that my sister will get better, even when it is hard to believe it.

I got the idea to write this because my mom found a website called (In)Courage. She kept encouraging me to publish this poem and link it to their site.