Into dark places she tiptoes

Barely perceivable at first
But she does her work diligently:
Opening Windows
Lighting candles
Cultivating Earth
Dusting corners
Making ready
Preparing for birth 
Spritely she dances
I can now sense her stirring
Then come seeds, light, and air
Change is occurring 
I emerge from a place
Where I once could barely cope
And peer into her luminous face
She smiles –
And says her name is, “Hope”