Hope stirred.

The sunlight's warmth upon your skin, the brightening of the eastern horizon,

The gentle breeze caressing your shoulder as the song birds sing,

The starlight's ceased from their twinkling, and the moons outreach starts to fade at the break of day,

The start of a new day as the dew drops from the lilies,

From the rainstorms of prior days.

Hope stirs within the hearts of men,

And the chatter of townsfolk throughout the market.

As you travel the roadside, avoiding the carriages passing through,

And the shepherds flocking past you with their usuals,

And the young boy merrily playing with the sheepdog,

I ask you:

How do you remain hopeful throughout a new day?

How do you stir joy in your heart, when every other reason of life would say otherwise?

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