Hope

Peace comes settling, at last. Evening bears no more threats; there are less shadows when the sun rises. The doubtful mind, programmed from years of asking, still feels the questions creeping in, but the heart is just as stubborn, and, with surer eyes, follows the light as it slants, upward now. The motes of sunlight bring delight, as before they only did sadness. It is almost dawn and yet the only regret I feel is that of the clock's measured ticking--unchanging  even as everything else has moved on, even as the heart has learned that each moment is different from the one that came before, and from that which will come after. Still, the losses have been counted, and tomorrow remains, steadfast.