September Spring

The rains return.
The fever breaks.
The thirsty soil
Drinks until it can’t contain
The water.
A trickle, then a stream,
Flows past our house,
Cuts gullies through dead grass,
Pushes aside the old
For new.

Arid summer yields
To an autumn birth.
The earth grows green
As we wait for another
Blaze to begin.
A fire without heat,
Only a moment
Of glory
Before winter’s
Repose.

Creator God,
You set the sun alight,
Wring out the clouds,
Paint the maple,
And carve the snow.
You are All, in all.
My mind strains to hold You,
My heart longs to know You,
But I cannot climb
To Your Perfection.

Then You reach for me,
Small as I am,
And close my hand
In Yours.

You rain down Your grace
Through Jesus, Your Son.
The drought has ended;
The Living Water has come.