We could not forego all hope
Though it appeared distant, difficult and plumed.
The horizon became ginger and heliotrope.

Safety appeared as through a microscope.
We felt lost, desperate, doomed,
And feared the end of all hope.

Bearing neither yarn nor rope,
We navigated even as we assumed.
The horizon became ginger and heliotrope.

Advice from the wise and the misanthrope-
Our time was consumed…
We dared not stop thinking about the hope

The wish for tomorrow, the glow of the isotope,
Diffused as through the kaleidoscope…
The horizon became ginger and heliotrope.

The future is feathered and aslope;
‘Tis undiscovered and perfumed.
We do not forego all hope.
The horizon has become ginger and heliotrope.