Vegetation withers and dies in parching soil.
Woodland creatures search out water.
Breaths rasp in the dry dusty heat.
Conversations center on one thought---
"We need rain. Pray for rain."
	
  Days pass into months.

Air masses form and move but bring no rain.
Forecast percentages deny the hope.

  Prayers continue.

Then distant thunder rumbles.
Clouds darken.
No rain falls, but hope grows

  And we still pray.
		
Then raindrops ping on the window.
The shower is brief but comforting.

  Praise speaks forth for this earnest of rains to come.