Hope

Hope will thrive, much like a beehive.

Hope can even be found by waiting,

Even though it might take a long time.

A flower's root will strive in winter's grip.

Hope is fragile, much like a petal from a flower,

Hope can be gnawed on by bugs.

Even though it seems hope might be gone,

There is no reason to mourn, for dawn brings the light.

Hope is sticky, much like the sap of a tree,

Or some honey, that a bee might carry.

Hope is not a day, nor a season, nor the cast offs from a tree,

Hope will never leave.

With the oceans becoming plastic and the air becoming smog,

Hope and graft can clearly rhyme, 

To make the world a better place, by just planting one tree,

Hope will never die.

Well,

Hopefully...