I am the vessel.
The draft is God’s.
And God is the thirsty one.
(It is so dangerously dry as we have had no rain since the first of June that even the springs and creek beds, deep in the woods which are always full of flowing waters, are dry and empty / Julie Cook / 2016)
Dry and dusty are the muffled cries of the earth…
which now aches and groans.
The Creator has spoken and yet man’s ears have grown deaf
All the while the faithful are left to wonder…
Man readily dismisses any sign, any reminder of God’s sacred word..
Are the waters now dry?
Do the rocks quiver and shake?
Have the seas overtaken the land?
Are the stars falling from the sky?
Have the storms blotted out the sun…
As man turns away from his God?
May my longing and my thirst,
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