The dusty, cracked earth cried out
for mercy from the blazing sun.
The cicadas song rose repeatedly,
a prayer for relief from the endless, arid days.
The garden flowers bowed low in the withering grass
Grateful for a drink from the hand of man.
Suddenly, a soft breeze stirred.
Dark, moisture laden clouds gathered
And soft rain fell from heaven
Preparing the thirsty ground for more.
It drenched the leaves of the forest and the mist rose.
It washed away the white hot heat
And bathed the world in joy.
Donna Black
