Praying
Dirty hands clasped in prayer,
Dusty fingers raised to the sky,
Pleading for the same blessing.
It had been weeks since the last rain, soybeans had
leaves folded upright keeping their remaining moisture
a secret from the sun, the leaves of the corn had long
since rolled themselves into scrolls to preserve their
turgor. Day after day we all were fed on promises of rain.
Empty promises, empty bellies.
Persistence is born of hope,
Survival of hopelessness.
Then it rained, hard enough to pry open the leaves, hard
enough to scrub everything clean: leaves and faith. Green
is the color of life and hope.
Hands spread in alleluia,
Fingers unclenched, claws no more.
Faith restored by the rain.
(2009)
