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Troth Of The Heart

Sunbeam threads across our clasped hands—  

to trust the best,  

to hope the best,  

to cherish the best.  

Some call it foolish optimism;  

some brand it blind devotion;  

some whisper infatuation.  

Yet—this truth escapes the sceptics:  

what the heart chooses to believe,  

the mind begins to see.  

I press my palm to your chest,  

feel hope’s soft stir beneath your breath.  

And in believing still,  

we find our wings—  

the magic of love sets us free.