The Drought

What was it like?
They began to say.
Now, I wish i could tell you
But its all gone gray.
Anything?
Can you tell us anything at all?
Wish i could,
But my words say nothing at all.


There were tears then,
Hope was gone.
Some were frozen,
Others trying to move on.
Men grew silent
And women looked down.
Yet, on one small face,
Not even a frown.

"ITs ok you guys,"
the boy tried to speak.
"I know the truth,
even if im meek.
Listen here everyone,
Just listen to me!
Sometimes all you have to do
Is let things be.

Look at this flower,
You all call a weed.
Here it grows,
Without watering or seed.
How do you suppose,
It came to grow here?
Think about it like me,
And it all becomes clear."

Then running close,
This tiny boy gave me,
A lesson of life to steep,
A little like tea.
On his smiling face,
Innocences sweetly beamed.
Yet, Maybe more was here,
Then what at first had seemed.

Off he went,
On errands great and small.
Giving me much,
When i had nothing at all.
The happy child,
Had improved my eye's harsh view,
And just then
All the weeds in the fields,
Appeared to bloom into something new.

The crowd dispersed,
I still standing alone,
Felt rather foolish,
Because of a soul not yet grown.
IT was then that the most,
profound thing came true.
You wont even believe me,
When i try to tell you.
Just then,
The raindrops quietly fell.
Now the neighbors understood,
What my words wouldnt tell.

Standing there,
I embraced the rain.
And saw hope in the eyes,
Of those drought had slain.
In my hand,
A beautiful flower stood tall.
It knew so much,
When i knew nothing at all.