Hope

Beneath a quilt of shooting stars

we slept for a thousand years

and woke to find oceans

covered in roses,

Earth whole again.

Ravaged countries

swept clean by sage and stardust-

dancing without boundary

or war.

in the name of Beauty.

Poetry written on the wings of sparrows

and desert sands,

translated by trees and rivers

into the language

of Liberation.

Lost books opened

to the pages of tomorrow,

comprehensible only in

the embrace of

Peace.

by Deborah Sage