Windows of Heaven


When the sky was blue,
My heart was brittle,
Dry to blistered souls
Seeking drink.
So God hung black clouds low,
Let loose His floods,
And poured forth more
Than I could hold.
I sputtered and choked.
He wrapped a hand around my heart
And wrung out sustenance
For others.
The sky is gray,
But my heart is soft.
In drier days,
It would have
Crumbled.