The land was the aridest he knew.
Rarer were the rains than omens of fortune.
Wilted trees, parched throats,
Water, pray it be endowed.
The gust of wind tears across land.
Yet, the rain brings a smile.
The fields will soon be aplenty.
With more for all of them.
The rain subsides, the trees soaked.
Leaves greener than the green.
Soon, their fruits shall ripe.
The seeds of bright future sown.
