HOPE CLIMBED

Once upon a time I saw:

hope climbing jagged crags,

while our eyes were lowered to its reality.

Our life was a garden

longing for footsteps,

a short journey

in unhitched sleeping-cars.

Once upon a time I saw:

the doorstep moving to meet

the weary body of the traveller,

a hand lowered to the clothes on the chair,

a bird landing on the dust on the lampshade

seeking attention.

A hope

was climbing towards the roof of the house

and no one woke to throw a stone at it.