Rain

I trudged through the desert and took in the scene

Of the barren hills and the dry ravine.

Some men think this is all rocks and sand,

But let me inform you that there is rich, fertile land.

The thing that is lacking out there in the hills

Is not some more humus nor minerals and pills.

Oh, if only they’d receive more showers of rain;

Then they could raise the fruit and the grain.

I returned to the country where the fruit tree yields,

And the cattle graze on rich green fields.

I ate of the bountiful food supply,

And I thanked the Lord, for rain from the sky.

Then my mind wandered to the scene at the well,

To the woman whom Jesus her life history did tell.

I could know of the yearning in that dear lady’s heart,

For the water that Jesus promised to impart.

Could there be such a difference between the lives of men,

As the dry barren desert and the watered glen?

Could it be that those who have the Spirit of God

Are as fruitful and green as the watered sod?

In awed suspense I bowed my head.

Oh Lord, send us rain, my poor heart said.

Send us Thy Spirit, the rain from above;

And keep us rich in the water of Thy love.

— Ruth Grosboll