THE LATER RAIN

The desert winds
Begin to blow
The clouds of rain
All gathered know
That trees can never
Give forth fruit
Without the moisture
At its root.

The flowers bursting
From their buds
Are clear reminders
Of God's love
Its blazing colors
Show His grace
By bringing joy
To Adam's race.

So why must we
Complain at all
When storm clouds come
To test the soul
Christ is alive
And knows our need
He ever lives
To intercede.

So lift the bareness
Of your soul
And let the floods
Begin to flow.
Rich fruit will yield
The harvest grain
Resulting from
The later rain.
--B. Pent