Breathing Fire, Shouting Hope

Looking at the day

built of equal parts, rain and gray,

and looking at the forest

bare of leaf and flower

sun and warmth

I make the mistake of

assuming a wet and barren woods

Until

I look
more closely

What I mistook for pale and brown

I discover is golden

and where I expected only whispers of death

I find angels and dragons

breathing fire and shouting Hope.