Softened Rock

...You make the soil soft with showers, blessing sprouting vegetation. (Ps 65:10) What can cool my tongue in drought but dew, my flesh but rain? I've longed for a fruitful heart, a rock softened by misty spray from the fountain. In my dryness, I looked up to the rock, to the source of living stream to wean me from leanness, from famished thoughts, blanched of noble ideas. Blanched because the heart is dry for lack of rain; far from the Heaven's haven. It pains to roam the wild! It hurts to swirl in empty space, consigned to caprice of storm. Grace tethers me to Christ; He holds the leash, restrains me from the brink of death. So I have hope—the hope of glory when the trump shall blast, when my worth winks in His glee. Then I'll recall the drought that drove me to his arms, at the croon of grace. © 2017 Celestine Ikwuamaesi