The Aspiring Bard

Source Rain gently fell upon the canes And sweetly kissed My tranquil face, While calloused hands (With purple stains) Caressed the perfect, Ripened fruits, Admiring how the raindrops ran In gleaming pools Between the drupes. I tasted of my little hoard, So cool, firm, and freshly wet, A yielding sweetness From the days Of sun and rain and dripping sweat. I felt a certain swelling peace, If this is life, then life is good! I worship here, among the canes, Bareheaded in the summer rains, My busy fingers daubed with stains, And heart turned up to God.

Source Here stand I, The turning point, As time whirls All around. The crux of past and future - I feel this holy ground.

Image source: Flickr I. Rain comes down To heal a broken land, Repairing cracks and chasms Drop by drop. II. I am a blasted, Parched and broken earth, But when you look at me With rainswept eyes, I feel my blighted soul Begin to heal, As drop by drop, The aching chasms fill.