Virga

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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.
Copyright © 2012 William Frank. Bellais
All rights reserved.
From the 180th Meridian and other Poems and Reflections, Create Space, 2012.
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