A hope sits on the window sill
every morning after the night darkening,
With a straw of happiness in her beak
to build a nest of compassionate dream…
Persistent in her efforts,
continuously she flies and gathers,
each single strand of luck,
with sincere diligent fervor.
Sometimes bruised ,hurt or scratched,
still then manages to fly
with her broken wings of thoughts
yet another golden morn!
A hope I find chirping everyday
singing a melody 
being happy and gay,
sitting on my window sill
every morning as I wake…