Poetic Scribbles #2

Updated: Mar 6, 2021

Rains come

Rushing waters, echoing thuds on corrugated roof tops.

Rumbling thunder, lightning bangs, striking stark dry hill tops.

Bursting winds through half open windows.

Ice rocks from cold summer airs follow.

A contrary combination of rain and fires plunder.

The droughts harsh outcomes burning under soaking thunder.

Once dust barren creekbeds vibrate with songs of frogs.

A magpie swoops snapping up tasty treats off half burnt logs.

Trickling streams through cracked dry clay.

Breathing life into starved lands, washing the dust away.

Sounds burst forward where crickets once wreaked havoc.

The rains bring life to an abandoned paddock.

Passing days, rains keep tumbling in.

Seedlings burgeon and life begins.

Dry lands turn green as waterways flurry.

Nature grows slowly, no need to hurry.

The drought now broken.

Our hearts are open.

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