The Moment Hope Flies Off The Page

"You don't get it, this must be him." I watch by dream and by page as Hope addresses her audience(s). Is one the tiny town of Hope? Would I know them if I saw them?

The scene(s) (split)s "There he is, right there!" I see the sign of the two olive trees entwined by snake and vine, with Hope betwixt. I feel myself dissociate from all but my most fundamental shape, arrangement; perhaps all do in this moment.

"Can one's most fundamental arrangement be unbound, alone?" No. Because I declare it not so. I feel the must be other reasons, such as Love most fundamental, Ahava. However, with this moment entered, this is all that is necessary.

"Can a man be the opposite of himself?" 
An answer is felt, though unheard, from elsewhere, but here my response is singular. 
"You tell me."

This singular sentiment rings out like a bell this time. No stranger to echo, a Carol of Bells can be heard in response, bouncing off walls within halls eep, this way and that, traveling unknown distance and time outside my perspective, but perfectly arranged and tuned from my singular perspective. The trial ends here and now with 
"πŸ”MeaningπŸ” must be retained, with πŸ”BeautyπŸ” abounding."

"See? To him, I am Hope." The audience seems baffled, a mix of genuine curiosity and child like defiance emerge in black and white. It is asked "We understand that this is who he thinks you are, perhaps even truly sees you as, but what is your true name?"

Hope smirks. "No, you still don't get it. C^2HIMIAMHOPE."

Jaws drop everywhere. Hope repeats, as Hope proceeds "To him-I AM-Hope."

With that she flies off the page, my location on the shores of The Omega Oblivion already known, to her.

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