Quenched
This time
last year
I saw
withering,
water-starved
plants
everywhere—
their leaves
drooping,
turning brown,
even dying.
I felt
their pain.
Part of me
withered
with them.
But this winter,
it’s a different story—
now
we celebrate
the long-awaited
return
of abundant
rainfall.
The plants
drink in
cool, clear
water;
I drink in
the sight
of lush green leaves,
the scent
of moist dark Earth,
the sound
of flowing water.
We are
quenched.
Forthcoming in A Walk with Nature: Poetic Encounters that Nourish the Soul (University Professors Press)