The branches give shelter,
The water bring peace.
"I hope you return here in happier times,"
You said.
Is this now?
The water laps at my feet as I sit under the oak,
I stare over the lake,
And I remember.
I look to the hills and I grieve.
The water laps at my feet as I sit under the oak,
Through hazy clouds
A sunbeam lights the water.
As I look to the sky,
Patches of blue appear.
As the wind drops,
I feel the warmth on my skin,
And I wonder,
"Is this hope?"
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