The Hopeful

His car, old and rusty

Stopped working months ago. 

His pant, worn and hoary 

He bought it six years ago. 

His palms showed signs of wear,

His arms showed the weight of his load.

His foot showed the length of his journey,

He looked tired showed the sweat of his brow.

But his eyes,

His eyes are not rheumy or heavy, 

His eyes, deep and hopeful.

But how? 

How do you gather hope? Dear Father, 

How do you gather hope?

With so less money in your pocket 

And a huge promise of responsibility,

How do you gather hope? 

When your children sulk over you,

And friends mock at you,

How do you gather hope? 

With tears in my eyes, I ask you, Father, 

"How do you gather hope?"