The sigh of wind drifts around

as trickling tears of rain wash down the barren fields.

Swiftly turning dust into mud,

churning up all of the dreams that were once left there

The clouds fought with one another,

leaving the sky alone with its howling scream.

Churning and clashing,

Above the field of barren dreams.

The rain comes to settle on the ravaged land.

Slowly drizzling to an end,

nothing moves, even the wind holds its mighty breath.

The sky is dead, under the starless night.

Long night hours shifted onto day, and the sun rose up to shine again.

One small, green, sprout laid among the muddled creation of the rain,

a dream grown from dust and tears