Hope

All the seeds you sowed today

Would not let you down tomorrow,

Though maybe you can't see them grow

As tall as you had thought ago,

But when days turn into weeks

And months into years,

You can compare and see them thrive

As opposed to what you'd feel tomorrow.

The story goes back when kings ruled all,

The soil had humus and houses weren't tall,

When the old farmer worked very hard

And dug the soil deep to the core,

With the hope of finding some relief

And once he gave up and kept his spade

But realising his folly he resumed his task

Until that day when he found the golden flask.

Pot, as we say, was baked in the scorching sun,

How ironical that it later kept water cold

But in the beginning, all it was was just clay

Wet, slimy and we won't dare play.

Yet the potter had his hands dirty

To break it, make it and again break it

Till the moment it took its shape, one that stays

And now is ready to serve its days.

These tales are many of the few exemplars

Too look how one can eventually succeed,

Despite losing several battles, the war, we can win.

The recipe is quite easy to comprehend,

Just determination, perseverance and hope.

The path maybe tedious but sure you would cope

And manage to walk up to that cliff you feared

To see how mesmerising it is to not give up.