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…