September 21–27 ❘ Desert Blooms
Desert Blooms
I have long considered dead patches
of lawn, dithered over how to better
use my little store of water.
Summer drought,
thirsty as brittle sponge,
wicked away old reserves,
leached every passion like vapor
escaped into sky. Heat left me
feeble-kneed, blind to weeds,
slow to heed the call of yardwork.
But the Lord is merciful.
He warms aching joints,
burns through closed lids
to make delicate veins glow
till I see bittercress, henbit, thistle,
clover holding drops of sprinkler dew,
pools of yellow salsify,
seas of dandelion blossoming
as the rose.
Read more of my poetry at www.facebook.com/latterdaysaintpoetry
Contact me at merrijane.rice@gmail.com
