I gazed upon a bed
of trampled weeds
and early blooms;
their bodies crushed
and soft white petals
wilted to the ground
For them,
fear was their only sound
A few brave stems,
wavering in an effort to stand tall
desperately helping
the others to not fall,
dripped of strength and courage
I swayed fearlessly
with them in the softest breeze
as a new rain sprinkled
them with hope

It is for them that I pray tonight