Virga over the New Mexico Range Land near Corona




The clouds tower over the desert floor.

Full of promise.

The rains fall from the promising clouds.

The earth is not moistened — the air is still.

The earth is not nourished.

Hope rises in the heart over our desert floors.

Full of promise.

The silver and white glistening clouds billow

Over our parched lives,

   and like the desert

We resist the rain.

There is virga.

Then comes the storm, the wind, the rain;

Like the desert we cannot resist.

The parched spirit is watered,

Soul is nourished.


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