She got a ticket to nowhere
and bought it with a bucket of dreams.
Dreams that were traded
for a vast plain of empty seeds.

She planted drops of hope
and watered the fields
with devotion and attention.
Only to be left with dead seedlings
of bitter dissension.

With her soul account emptied and bare
she had invested everything
for a plentiful harvest to
sustain nutrition and share.
She plowed and plowed
But the sprouts she tried to cultivate
Stayed dormant and bowed
throughout a lifetime of relentless drought.

The sun still rises
and there is water from my tears
with enough attention and some discarded fears
Perhaps one little seed will take hold
and enter the world
with new blooms
that beautifully unfold.

Back in the saddle all suited up
she figures
maybe
just maybe
if I don't give up
With just one seed from her pocket
buried deep in a survivor's locket
she patted it down
and drenched it with faith
Called on her angels and down came the rain.