Is it a lie that
in life, there’s much to gain
and for growth a price to pay?
Hope is the rope that saves
from the depths of danger, lifts
she who is forced to flee:
to leave her joy and bear a loss.
It’s the magnet pulling
to greener pastures many.
Those who rise to thrive.
To see ambition’s fruits.
It’s the glimmer in darkness, beckoning
in their inner migration, seekers:
From wherever hope invites
assured is not, a journey easy.
To turn the past and imagine futures.
To be uncertain but lean on faith.
To take a leap of fear at times.
To brave the unfamiliar, inflated.
Nostalgia shares not the load
but it’s a mirror, teasing reflection.
Has the bargain been of worth?
And for your gain, your loss was what?
Have you thrived or yet not arrived?
Either way, have you not paid
In full the price and grown?