A Season Of Drought
A Devastating Dryness
As Foretold By The Prophets
Withered Hands Worked The Field
The Land, Devoid Of Water
Cracked Open, Aghast
What A Season!
A Season Of Toil
Toiling In Futility
Working The Wasted Against Time
As Grass Disappeared From The Fields
The Last Of The Grasshoppers Drifted
Hope Anchored Against The Promise
Then Strange Things Began To Happen
Little Pockets Of Cloud Garthered
Little Pockets And Yet Little Pockets
A Massive Cloud, They Began To Form
Darkened And Heavy, It Stood Still
Hanging Over The Land
As The Winds Stood Still
A Pervading Darkness, Stealthily Crept In
A Daytime Strangling Of Daylight
A Sudden Silence
A Sudden Prelude, It Seemed
To An Impeding Storm
As Birds Flee The Sky
Standing Trees Trembled In Fear
And Men Ran Around For Cover
But The Winds Would Not Blow
The Thunder And The Lightning
In Accord Held Their Peace
And The Storm Refused To Storm
What A Trepidation! What A Suspense!!
In This Consternation, To The Lord I Cried
Lord, When Will This Storm Be?
There Will Be No Storm
But Lord, All These Signs Speak Of A Storm
No, They Speak Of A Rain
A Rainy Storm, Lord?
No, A Plain Rain, In A Deluge
Thank You Lord For Rain But When
Will This Be?
“In My Time”
Thank You Lord!
Submitted by: Tunji Kusa
Ilorin, Nigeria.
