The Hope of Africa

wispy whites
feathered across
the bright blue
sunlight sky ….

sparse trees stand steady and strong
on their skinny legs;
a row of soldiers
digging their roots deeply into the dried-out ground
extracting the last lick of water.

watching and waiting,
on yet another windless day,
for light white to be transfigured into heavy grey
that drop their life-giving load
onto the thirsty earth.

Their little leaves longing,
desperately,
for a touch from Heaven;
refreshing rains,
to wash away their weariness.

If trees could tremble they would fall to their knees
before the One Who spoke them into being on the third day.

It is the eleventh hour
and Only God’s mercy can delete the drought.

—
Brenda.ps23©