These gardens, so dry since the rains stopped..
The once blooming flowers now withered and falling off..
The Sun's wrath all upon them.
The wind blows and takes some of the loose twigs with it.
The trees mourn, the flowers lose their beauty and the soil, it lays there helplessly.
The branches converse quietly, perhaps comforting each other.
The resident birds shift uncomfortably before flying away.
Before the rains vanished, there was life, bliss and color.
And now, sadness hangs in the air like an unwanted guest..
What stands out is the roots.
Despite the adversity, the crisis, the despair..
They hold on firmly onto the ground, relentlessly.
The winds come again, this time violently.
But the roots my friend, they don't budge.
Stronger than before they stand.