One Drop - Prose

These forgotten badlands are arid and parched. It’s felt the blistering, desert hot winds.
Turbulent gritty sand storms have crossed these lands. What was once lively, thriving is 
now only a desolate, thirsty terrain. After being drought-ridden for so long, the ground is 
hard, unyielding even to the smallest root.  Even vultures have stopped flying overhead 
for how can something die if everything is already dead?Day after desiccated day, the sun 
beams down, relentless. Although the night is somewhat welcoming, it is still so thick and 
humid that it doesn’t provide much comfort. But there’s a scent in the air….something 
somewhat familiar but from ages ago. There’s a change in the atmosphere…and an eerie 
silence that stretches for miles, like time has stood still. Splat! There…a scattered, dark 
circle on the ground…disappearing almost instantly. Suddenly, the scorching sky breaks 
open. Rain…cool, wet liquid…it does exist. Looking across the horizon, you can see it. Like 
a silky veil draping over the lands in a steady, fluid motion. There is no other sound 
around…just the sound of this drumming rain landing, making everything it touches glisten 
and gleam like diamonds. Giving drink to a once thought unquenchable territory, it opens 
up wide and soaks it all in. The water running, dripping into the trenches that were only 
once small cracks…..reaching depths unknown to bring forth life of what was once dead. If 
there were such a smell as years of dehydration and depravity finally receiving 
sustenance, this smell would be it. Such a beauty to behold…so much water that it stands
in pools until this hardened ground can learn what it’s like to soften in order to accept it. 
It’s everywhere, can you see it? Abundant, unwavering water. Everything has been so 
barren, you can see for miles…but…wait..what’s this? Something so small that you would 
almost miss it. Emerald green, a majestic inch…a sprout….a sprout of hope….a sprout of 
life…

Copyright © | Year Posted 2011



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Date: 8/4/2011 8:05:00 AM
Congratulations on your poetry making it through round one in the PoetrySoup International Poetry contest. I wish you the best in the final round Shauna. Love, Carol
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Date: 3/7/2011 8:42:00 AM
Actually, this poem is about me. I am the badlands....and the rain, the water...is God's love for me...I just chose to convey how his love has effected me in this way... Shauna
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Date: 3/5/2011 12:48:00 PM
Once again your prose took me into the enviroment you write of. I've never been to the badlands but your description gives me a mental picture as if I had been there many times. Wonderful
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Date: 2/24/2011 4:38:00 PM
i hear it's the most beautifull thing in the world when the desert blooms. john h loving iii
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Date: 2/22/2011 6:49:00 PM
Ha thanks Robert for pointing that out...I appreciate it...and corrected it :)
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Date: 2/22/2011 6:44:00 PM
Very descriptive writing here. Just correct one item in your fourth line: The definition of "carrion" is the rotting flesh of dead animals. It is not the "carrions" that are flying overhead. Replace that word with "vultures", "buzzards", or "carrion crows". Everything else looks fine.
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Date: 2/22/2011 6:10:00 PM
Thanks everyone for your comments :)
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Date: 2/22/2011 6:04:00 PM
expressive narrative on One Drop,
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Date: 2/22/2011 5:10:00 PM
In faith and hope the world will disagree, but all mankind's concern is charity. Alexander The Grea
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Date: 2/22/2011 12:46:00 PM
enjoyed this sensory and changing write here today thank you.
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Date: 2/22/2011 11:32:00 AM
Oh yes, Shauna, I do like the idea of journeying from the desert to find a place where nature's beauty is abundant. Well done in the prose poetry form as well! Love, Carolyn
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Date: 2/22/2011 10:51:00 AM
Thanks Catie! This is actually my first prose poem...
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