Wednesday, December 17, 2025

HOPES

  


One morning in the mountains,

Hope rose with the golden light,

Gentle but unstoppable.

The day unfolded slowly,

Like a letter from the future.

I breathed in possibility,

Letting it settle warm inside me.

Even the stones glimmered

With new beginnings.

Birds soared higher,

As if carrying dreams upward.

The wind hummed softly,

Not with sorrow, but promise.

I felt the world expand,

Ready to open its arms.

The past loosened its grip,

Slipping into the shadows.

Light filled the spaces

Where doubt once lived.

And the mountains,

Tall and certain,

Whispered that hope

Is the strongest sunrise.

So I lifted my face

And believed again.


©®Madhumita

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