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.