When the rain finally fell
The desert bloomed
A sea of color,
Crying glory.

And when the hard blue sky
Denied the rain,
And all blossom faded,
Still the dry land
Cried glory,
And the cactus wren fed her young.

And I, when my last days had come,
Stood beneath the hard blue sky,
And saw the cactus wren seek water,
And was reminded of a groaning
That will cease
When the sons of God are revealed

Then with the blossom
And the dry land,
Beneath the hard blue sky,
I raised my hands and cried glory.

mike frank
© 2006



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