The parched poor earth,

Looks heavenwards..

In want of the elixir of life,

A reason to thrive..

Hope..

Grape vine and little tendril,

Throw caution to all peril..

Clings and up it rides,

Knowing, be not cast aside

Faith…

The raging winds hoot,

threatening to uproot.

The little shoot bends to save,

to prosper , it craves..

A little prayer..

 The fire-spitting sun seethes

But out a little blade peeps

Tentatively smiles

Fights and survives..

A little miracle!

And all that is needed,

To tackle every battle

Is a little hope,

A little faith,

A little prayer

And little miracle!

 

 

 

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