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You can hear the whisper of rain in the breeze
feel it in your bones, taste it on your lips
feel it on your skin, Please Dear God hear a prayer for rain...

The parch earth thirst for rain
the cracks have baked away into layers of fine dust
A child's toes squeeze that dust, soft and dry.
The ponds and streams have long dried
The lakes and rivers are getting low
Dryer than the Dust Bowl
and the Sooners are average this year
Crops have shrivel in fields
salvage what you can for hay
Farmers losing crops, ranchers selling herds
Bulldozing deep into the ponds bed
hoping there is water
18 months with hardly a drop, a few sprinkles now and than
The small country church is full
The men and boys with hats removed
The preacher prays for rain
Every head bowed every heart true.

Decades ago small towns would pay Native Americans
to perform rain dances and open up the skies
Maybe we should try...

The southwest prairie sky red with the dust of red clay
Fingers of crimson scrawl across the early dusk sky
The glorious sun melts into the horizon.

Forecast for rain have been wanting
Autumn waltzes in on a morning breeze
A few sprinkles here but not there.

In the distant darkness embraces
 as thunder crackles with arrows of lightning
That night the thunder overhead, droplets of rain surge into a shower
Sunday morning and the rain gauge shows 3 and 1/2 inches 
The little country church overflows, prayers of thanks and continue rain
Forecast promises more, a prayer for rain answered.

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