The Gift

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Like the deep hue the sky reflects,
Our eyes reflect the deep sadness.
The cries of the birds die,
And a restless silence remains.
The water like a constant flow,
Creeps from the corners of our eyes.
Suddenly, the cries of many pierce the sky,
And howl their painful screams.
They look up above,
Attempting to find hope,
But instead see the tears.
The tears that fled from their eyes,
Has come plummeting down upon them,
They flood the streets,
and embrace their tears,
Holding their hands in front of them.
“My gift to you,”
He says from above,
“Is the sun.”
The bright beams of light shed upon them,
A firey glow.
Its warm fingers caressed their skin,
as a mother would her child.
They danced about the streets,
basking in her glory.
They knelt upon the ground
To acknowledge the gift of life.





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