Trying hard to find water in a dry land. A parched, dry, burning throat tortures me. My lips, peeling like mud flakes, baked by the noon heat. My eyes, surrounded by lines, sun induced deep cracks. Life was there at one time, now, only the memory of life conveyed in the carved, hard mud of me, a dry lake. Then a soft wind blows, the temperature drops slowly, a coolness invades, and the clouds gather promising a new thing is on its way. Soft drops escape at first, slowly building a faceless mob. Each drop makes a mark, dimpling the ground. The little craters overflow and begin to form a growing conglomeration of streaming water alliances, gathering momentum and finding their way to the thirsty lake, filling the deepest cracks first.
Notice the deepest cracks are the ones first filled with the life-giving water. Likewise, notice how the deepest hurts are the first healed when the fulfillment of your hearts desire comes to pass. It's a beautiful to see life restored to what was once dead, an amazing thing to see such animation. There is a fulfillment in hope. Contentment after suffering. It feels so good. Like cold water after a hot run.
First written in opinionsofeye.com