The Magic of Hope

I know of an empty field that's completely full of the "void",
and said "void" is full of nothing but weeds.
So very vacant was this lot,

that even the wind would not waste it's time.
For extremely silent were the trees
and even quieter were their branches.

Also, were the tumbleweeds still and absent of any animation
as they sat, perched stolidly without a single destination in mind.

It was as if all of the foliage,
being mostly an odd-ball, sort of collection
of trees-few, starter plants and seedlings, and weeds a-plenty,

were merely patiently waiting to join the many plants of the dead;
you know, the ones that cease their growing yield
because of the lack of nutrients and incentives of their existence;

from the curse expelled by mother nature...
..of course, that was until the healing rains arrived.

After that magical day, I spied a wondrous meadow!
For, the soil and all of it's counterparts had finally been nourished,
and they collectively turned their backs on the realm of death,

and came back to life, finally erasing the curse that had been depriving them.
And then, pride clearly was evident in the plant's and tree's skeletal persona's;
for they all sorely needed the nourishment, fresh water, and the presence of change in the weather.

and not too soon after, there appeared the most beautiful of rainbows, as a promise from mother nature...
..for with one stroke of her brush.....she had skillfuly painted the field with the magic......the magic of "Hope".