In the desolate, freezing field,
The harsh wind cruelly blows.
It uproots dead, wilting plants,
And takes them with it as it goes.
Frost creeps up on the trees,
From the cold, unforgiving ground.
Like every day in this desolate place,
Life is nowhere to be found.
Every flower is wilting and gray,
And all the grass lies lifeless.
But among all this,
There is something hidden within the mess.
Search through the treacherous place,
Where the wind is constantly whipping.
Go journey, don't be scared to go,
Where the frost is nipping.
For, once you think you're done,
And you cannot go on,
Because you are stuck here,
Where all life is gone,
You will find, under frozen brush,
Something that was worth the while.
You hold the delicate, fragile flower,
And you can't help but smile.
Although the cold is harsh,
And although the wind still whips,
You are filled with a happiness,
And one word escapes your lips.
"Hope."
