Among your heart’s desire
be there space for which to retire
Not in suffering resolution
but in courageous absolution
Contentment here as well as there
but something amiss in our breath’s air
And in between all feelings of woe
a dormant shimmering glimmer of hope
Destiny’s will come forth and received
a space to reshape the before besieged
Through clouds of storm and hurricane
among sorrow, forgiveness, exaltation, pain
Within your soul amid the muck and the mire
wholly a place to make a fire.
Busted Flip Flops 
More hope is always required in this world, amid the ‘muck and the mire’. This sonnet feels like hope. I like it.
Thank you Jude. Yes, you are right. More hope is always required. I’m pleased you like it. 😊