Blessed Rain

Black earth cracks open
begging through jagged, arid lips
water, please, drown me with drops
of life restoring rain.
Tendrils of roots seek my riches
to nourish them, to bloom with promises
threatened now in dark, dry soil without a drop to drink.

Butterflies and bees will be robbed of the balm they seek.
Blossoms will not open, colors will fade to yellow and brown.
Lavender will lose its scent, the fragrance of summer
begs for life restoring rain.
Clouds blow in providing shade but no rain falls from
decorator clouds that quickly puff away.
We watch the radar but it is like the pot that never boils.

Thunderstorms are possible they say.
Rumbles of thunder are heard in the distance,
winds pick up, branches fall in dry frustration.
Black earth cries out
water, please, drown me with drops
of life restoring, blessed rain.

Written by Lindsey Ein for OLN LIVE at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets around the globe. Image from Pixabay.com