No Water

Shall I thank you for this dry season,
in which the storms and floods have receded
and there is space for me to breathe
vast space for me to walk about and plant anew?

Shall I cry out to you in this dry season,
as the streams take their time
no longer dancing and splashing with life
and I thirst for abundant pools?

Shall I thank you for this dry season,
in which the fields are lying fallow for their time
with great patience and deep trust
knowing their richness depends upon their rest?

Shall I cry out to you in this dry season,
in these days of fruitless routine
when the sun passes east to west unchanging
without hope for anything new?

Ah God, Holy Breath and Deep Fountain,
you who can bring about life from death
and impose death upon life: grant me
patience and gratitude in this dry season.

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