Grace
The silver rain like grace descendsUpon the dusty arid lands,
Bringing needed succor to
Both plant and animal the same.
And ere the sunbaked thirst is slaked
The smell of rain on burning soil
Bears skyward silent prayers of joy
And thanks for the deliverance.
While leaf and soil and creature all
Quaff the bounty from above,
Something deep is thereby stirred,
A seed, an egg, a wilted bulb
Tremble and upraise their heads
Rejoicing in this sacred gift.
And thus, by grace, the land renews,
And life another cycle turns.
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