Is it True that Hope is Wild?

A sonnet about hope.

By Caio Resende via Pexels

Is it true that hope is a wild thing
So entirely prone to its own whims?
Coming as it pleases to dance and sing
And bursting in when courage slowly dims?

For indeed it acts on its own accord
As so unexpectedly comes its sight
Guarding ailing dreams with a flaming sword
Stirring the lost from the throes of the night

But it lies so close to the damaged heart
Without neither a protest nor bored complaint
Surely if it lacks the will to depart
It must possess the honour of a saint

Where hope is the breath that all long to breathe
It never strays far from its place in thee