Ocean doesn’t know this desert’s hope.
Yet every storm is of the current
Caressing hills and valley rich—
Giving life before depletion
In its distant crossing.
Rare the rain
That blesses here.
Maybe this spring, or next.
I await your touch, your kiss.
And tomorrow’s new sea blooming.
Blues, gold-yellow, scarlet, orange.
And green as valley’s summer.
Sweet days of life renewal—
Your love and blessing.