I slept                  

                  In the black darkness,

                  While the Living Water fell

                  Upon the tired faces

                  Of the many colored pansies,

                  Washing the dust from every flower and

                  Leaving their velvet texture softly glowing

                  In the early morning sunlight.


                  I woke to see them

                  Growing beside the sodden pathway,

                  Where iridescent insects come to

                  Drink sweet nectar and

                  Find shelter

                  Beneath outstretched arms.

                                                                                                Cerita M. Hewett