Parched Land


Drip, drip, drip.
Slowly the tear drops slide down the face of the earth,
Quenching the thirst of the ever so patient dryads.
Streaming veins paint the barren skin of the ground
With moisture and bringing life to whatever it touches.
Then,
The heavenly realms open revealing
The scorching sun drying everything and shining on anything
And God's covenant enchants the sky
With streaks of beautiful color.

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