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"A heavy drought had come over the land. First all the grass dried up, then all the bushes withered away. There was no rain for days nor any refreshing dew in the morning. Animals had died of thirst in great quantities, only very few had been able to escape the desert beforehand. The drought just did not end. Even the grandest and strongest trees with roots deep in the earth lost their leaves. All springs and wells, rivers and streams had run dry.
Miraculously one little flower had managed to stay alive thanks to a tiny spring still dispensing a few drops of water. But said spring was distressed and said: 'Everything around me withers and dies of thirst, and there is nothing I can do about it. Why shoudl I even try and get those last few drops out of the soil?'
Not far away there stood an old and firm tree. He had heard the spring's lament and with his last words replied: 'Nobody expects you to save the whole desert from the droght. Your duty is keeping this one little flower alive. Nothing more.'"

This African tale was the inspiration for today's piece I wrote back in 2014. I was given this text during a therapy setting and originally was supposed to draw or write something based on it. However, I immediately came up with music to go with the story and was given permission to work on it instead of drawing.
If you are familiar with some of my other pieces you might recall the beginning of the piece: I "recycled" it for a section in "A Story of Hearth's Warming Eve". If you know the story of Hearth's Warming Eve from the My Little Pony TV series, you might see why I did.