Thirst

By David Taylor

The dryness was revealed by absorption
of the softly falling rain on rock,
the colours once hidden from my sight
blossoming like buds where each drop
met the inner thirst which I had seen not.

Every rock proclaiming its welcome
for that gentle rain from heaven
in its immediate unveiling of beauty;
and I, drained and weary, laden;

like a seed in dry dessert sand,
my heart awaiting, in this mortal man,
with a thirst which unseen cries
and deep within us all must lie,
for that sweet rain to arrive.

Oh to cast off my impervious husk
and like a simple dry baked rock
absorb into my heart, my very life,
each and every grace filled drop.

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