The day’s sun has bored down upon the land.
Each glistening ray travels through every dried crack and crevice.
A farmer in the middle of the field that was the last year his.
His feet as wrinkled as the land on which he kneels.

He runs his hands through his hair.
Tears run down the side of his cheek
They fall on the land close to his feet,
There might have been a little sizzle and steam.

He looks across to see his family
A wife and two children, how will he feed?
He runs his hands through his hair again
before folding them in a silent little prayer.

And like a miracle the sky turns dark and gray
lightning and thunder strike like an answer to his prayer.
He jumps to his feet wiping the tears to now wear a smile.
His family runs across the black field to meet his happy embrace.

The first few drops of rain steam up on touching the thirsty plain.
And the heavenly fragrance of the earth fills up the entire space.
The farmer and his family dance in joy,
this year, just maybe they don’t have to starve and die.

Evey year the water seems to be scarce. Its becoming one of the dearest resources. And we need to realize, water is precious. Very.
This image came to my mind when it rained today in the midst of a scorching summer in the backdrop of some article I read on farmer suicides.
We need to be judicious and even stingy in our water usage. We do not need to was our car everyday. Or have vast expansive lawns. We will run out of water. Maybe very soon.

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