A Rivulet Of Restoration

As the uproar died away

sunshine broke cobalt horizons

a gift, fashioned as a divine meander 

ran down purple hills,

and through gray grass, it coursed

redwoods and firs once in flames

now doused by long serene shades

first witnesses shook their heads

took false what was made palpable before their eyes

could a gift so divine be real?

yet more and more came out to see

people crawled out of lugubrious oubliettes

over deadened landscapes covered in sands,

over dried leaves and thirsty helichrysums

their feet shuffled, held firmly by the earth

each face haggard and vexed by thirst

and the rumor spread wide like wild fire

from mouth to mouth,

across towns, cities, and villages

nine years had gone by without a drop

and yet again without a wisp of vapor in the sky

a murmuring rivulet of restoration flowed

they then converged with brightening eyes

each fellow plunging deep and open-eyed

at last, smiles broke upon solemn faces

tears dried amid that calming meandering bliss

they did not know yet at whose mercy

the acquisition of this boon was due!