After the flood was over,
There were piles of dirt and debris,
The desolation went on for miles,
Far beyond where the eye could see.
Parts of houses, detached roofs,
Broken porches, railings, floors,
Window boxes, smashed and empty,
Bricks from chimneys by the score.
Children's treasures, people's dreams,
Framed awards with shattered glass,
Photo albums, souvenirs,
Saved mementos from the past.
Water-soaked and badly damaged,
Most things beyond repair,
Mud and sludge had claimed them all,
Once there was a sky of blue,
The bluest ever seen,
And tall trees with rich brown bark,
And leaves of polished green.
Colored flowers lined the walkways,
Pert pansies peeked from window sills,
Red roses grew in well-kept beds,
And there were fields of daffodils.
But the colors now had disappeared,
Each vibrant shade had washed away,
A monotone world was now in place,
Both sky and earth, a death-like gray.
A strange quiet filled the air,
Men almost afraid to speak,
Lest the shattered silence,
Would reveal that they were weak.
What to do? Where to turn?
Men looked to each other for support,
But only God could help them now,
His grace, their last resort.
Then suddenly in the leaden sky,
There appeared a godly gift of grace,
A tiny bird from way up high,
Flew down to find a resting place.
It raised its little voice in song,
Men listened, hypnotized,
T'was the only sound for miles around,
Grown men looked up ... and cried.
Hope came in on gentle wings,
A tiny bird still sang and flew,
Weren't men as strong as one small bird?
Their dreams and hopes renewed.
Virginia (Ginny) Ellis
Copyright October 2005 ~ Revised August 2007