A Dry Soul's Hope

My soul has dried out.

I’m like a parched land.

Stripped bare by this drought,

I’m just dust and sand.

The soil has hardened,

Crevices have formed.

No more the garden,

No room for the corm.

Cracked edges are jagged.

My words become sharp.

Emotions are haggard.

The landscape is dark.

Vacant eyes stare,

No tears; all is numb.

Out groans a prayer,

A primitive hum.

The Spirit translates

This desperate thirst

My words can’t relate

Without feeling cursed.

“I long for you, God!”

My starved soul cries out.

I’m only dead sod,

Useless, burned out.

Send rain to dissolve

What seems impregnable.

Make soft and absolve

My heart, once culpable.

Flow in through the gaps

Like blood filling veins,

Free seedlings once trapped;

Germinating rains!

I’m falling apart,

I’m no longer blind.

I want a fresh start;

Don’t leave me behind.

My stony heart puddles.

My mind is restored.

Let go of the struggles.

A new me is formed.

I stretch out my hands to You; My soul longs for You, like a parched and weary land. -Psalm 143:6

by Heather J. Willis, author

Read a beautiful poem written by my husband, Paul, on this theme - The Hope of Dawn.