Three Kinds of Drought

 

As I walk along the single lane road, yellow grass lining the banks each side, with a few hardy weeds, and trees still green, I notice the farmer ploughing the field. I know how dry the field is as the plough turns over 12” at a time, and the shade of colour is almost unchanged. A cloud surrounds the plough as its moving, even the seagulls are very few since the worms have dug deep to escape the dry soil. The farmer will struggle to sow seeds this year, without the rainfall to encourage the seeds to grow. But as every year, the farmer must keep to a schedule for the crops to be ready for harvesting.

Martyn


There is a drought in this world, causing death and destruction, fires rage, fields lay bare. Country against country, brother against brother. Despair fuelled wars rage across the globe. Children starving, dying from lack of medicine, War heroes reduced to dark solemn figures in doorways as the world passes them, seen but ignored.

There is a drought in this world, resources run thin, energy costs skyrocket, shop doors close, and food banks lay bare, the elite in their ivory towers, immune to the daily struggles of the common man, but aware of the fate to befall him, all the while trying to make profit from the self-destructive nature of progress.

There is a drought in this world, the rivers of compassion have run dry, the clouds no longer hold, but are swollen with the selfishness of man, raining self-destruction upon him. Blind eyes do not soak in the state of the world that surrounds him.

There is a drought in the world,

And I pray for the rain.

Russell

 

Walking through the wooded area where I walked the dog every day always seemed to be damp and a bit eerie. The wood was only a small area, but it was dark and thick with many large trees and shrubs. Covering the whole balcony of the area, then open into the large sunshine as it was late summer, walk past fields. I notice how dry it looks from the damp forest the openness of the field and the dry winds, not a lot of rain but I thought just like last year it would be full of life green fields and many birds.

The dog takes a drink from a rut at the edge of the field, but he didn’t seem to want to stop, why I thought he must be getting thirsty. But then I realised the green fields were brown and a little green, then as we went further from the wood the earth, big cracks in the ground were under my feet. The food that was being grown in the fields had not flourished properly this was and seemed like a drought. What a difference from the wooded area nice and damp and wet, in the open dry and dusty and crops that were not surviving.

Simon

 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

The giant boy

Stuck Midway

The Garden of my Soul