I remember dry spells
on the Canadian praires
how colour fades
grass snaps, breaks
cutting feet silly enough
to walk unshod
dirt cracks deep
wind catches dust to scatter
upon leaves too soon disconnected
from their trees
and we cried for rain
here, in Zambia, we wait
perhaps another month
before the season of dryness
ends, yet life breaks through
thrives and startles
with God's ability to overcome
softening the harsh climate
creating trees that flower
even during regular months of drought
Thirsty deserts will be glad;
barren lands will celebrate and blossom with flowers.
1 comment:
beautiful, bless you
Post a Comment