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Cycles
April 13, 2011
The land is dry and arid,
A barren, empty plain,
A wasteland no man enters,
If only to suffer pain.
But once every few decades,
A raindrop falls to the ground.
Sometimes the rain evaporates,
And sometimes it pours back down.
And when the cool, life giving rain
Seeps slowly into the soil,
Plants and flowers begin to their lives
And the ferns slowly uncoil.
But with the passing of the loving rain
Comes and ending much expected
The flowers wither and die off
And the land is dry and arid.
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