Seeking to reawaken hope

I look upon the innocence; 

The trusting faces of these flowers, 

Still blooming among the driftwood 

Beside the beach despite the cold — 

The cold that is, 

And the cold that’s sure to come — 

And listen for some echo in my heart; 

Some reserve of hope, deep buried, 

That might sing again, encouraged 

By their golden effervescence...