I hope you thrive on this ninth day of July afternoon,
Feels good to be alive on this Waxing Gibbous moon,
So brimful of faith that you can sing an aria in tune,
When hope prevails, light shines amidst the darkness.
Turning black tormented nights into rosy sunrise,
Hope is a motivation, helps the body reenergise,
Power up your prayers imams, priests and rabbis,
Hope will rise from this angst-bound, bed of blindness.
”Where there’s hope there’s life.” Ann Frank said,
“It fills us with fresh courage,” for the path ahead,
“And makes us strong again,” as onward we tread.
We refuse to accept that condition known as hopeless.
A McTiernan
