In a land where bristle crops whither away,
water once kept in rivers dissipates,
the grass, once a lush emerald;
the heaven’s hues nearly impeccable,
a girl stands angry at the clouds that fill a forgotten celestial spectacle.
“Our crops shrive, the riverbed cracked and dry, the skies an arid gray.
Why are you there clouds if you refuse to send rain our way?”
A sneer made for the sky seizes her face,
for even the smallest of droplets, she would appreciate its warm embrace.
Hope dwindling, she crafts a prayer with an open mind.
A prayer on behalf of all those who embark on an obstacle of this kind.
She sits and pleads by her window for the rain to abolish the drought,
begging for the smallest sign to chase away her doubt.

***
High within a parched cloud, a tiny droplet dreams of its fall,
clinging on to the belief of fulfilling a promise once called.
Others’ hope diminishes, but this one fights to go,
praying that the cloud will part and let its courage show.
With eyes closed it pushes through a tear from heaven’s seam,
descending from the sky above and answering the wishes of many dreams.
It dances in the dusty wind toward a shabby house standing still,
and lands upon the window where a girl’s tears soon spill.
She cast a lingering smile as their eyes intertwine.
Her tears become raindrops, a reunion-filled love that shines.
The raindrop waves to its kind that emerge from her eyes,
a plethora of droplets each one a phenomenal surprise.
Then it plummets and glides to a crack in the wall,
where it settles and sleeps to the sound of the raindrops fall.