The Rains Of Namaqualand

There is a desert in the sun,
Where streams and rivers seldom run;
But once a year the rains pour down,
And sand is drenched for miles around.

The seeds, which dormant live for years,
Burst forth and bloom, disbursing fears
That life has gone from that dry land –
In days they thrust to take their stand.

It's called "The Garden Of The Gods",
And so it's named, which does seem odd
To those who pass that way most days,
See desert sand, and speak no praise.

Three weeks it lasts that color-fest,
And then it's gone – though brief, it's best
Of all our gardens, forest glades –
Profusion bright through sun-drenched days.

I saw a book of coloured pix,
Which captured tiny bits of this;
An image etched upon my mind,
Which spoke to me of humankind.

For months or years we feel the drought,
The scorching wind blows sand about;
And then His Word pours down like rain –
We spring to life, bear fruit again.

For though we think that it’s just sand,
That life won't bloom throughout this land,
It's partly seed mixed with those grains,
Which springs to life when come the rains.

Such was the day your message came;
The link brought forth your voice again;
Then water filtered through the sand,
And dormant seeds resumed their stand.

Thanks.

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