Revival.

A rumble of clouds,

They look up from

their circle of prayer,

The land is barren,

Not a flower in sight.

But a rumble of clouds

And

slowly

Little droplets

start to fall from the sky.

The faces lit up,

the drops fall on the ground,

The cracks in the soil

They mix into each other

The soil is wet

And the faces are wet

And the tears are wet

But this time they come

because they're overjoyed

The land sees rain.

The water

washes the pain away

Quenching thirsts,

Washing down the worries

Blooming flowers.

Revival.