Tag Archives: drought

August Petrichor

Petrichor-a pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a period of long, dry weather

The land has languished for months amid the annual summer drought
And the cracked clay which bakes beneath the brutal blast of a Texas sun
Awaits the agonizingly slow approach of the autumnal wind and rain
The heat saps the energy from flora and fauna, man, and beast and field
Desiccated air absorbs the last trickle of water from the earth’s skin
Creeks and streams that flowed in the spring are sun bleached limestone
The inflamed soil longs for relief as it sinks exhaustedly into a summer siesta
But on this August day there is the earthy smell of petrichor as the wind shifts
Thunder rumbles in the distance as the baked earth prepares to receive
The bounty of the heavens as the clouds open and deposit their liquid life
Cooling off the sunburned skin of the earth and giving the soil a sip
A small foretaste of the feast that will come as the seasons turn
The earth sings and dances in this brief shower which dances on its body


Bandera- A Poem


Every blade of grass comes armed with some spear, barb or spike
And the soil is only a thin blanket covering a bed of limestone
Where the dry winds and the burning heat
Bake the fields like bread in an oven
Roadrunners dart among the cedar trees searching for snakes
While scorpions patrol the dust vigilantly with their tales held high
The clouds rumble and complain as they float through the sky
As if some angry god refused to shed a tear for the parched earth beneath
Yet through the burning summer life continues to persevere
Birds sing their songs while flies and bees buzz through the air
The deer seek out the few remaining pools in the dried creek bed
And for all its arid heat there is a beauty that draws me back home
Through most of the year I dwell where the soil is dark and deep
Where the rains fall and the corn grows tall
And the land is green and the grass is soft
But this dusty land is in my blood and draws me back as one of its own

Neil White, 2013

purple rose 01 by picsofflowers.blogspot.com

Empty Wells: A Poem


When the wells of the soul run dry
From watering and nourishing the fruit of the vine
In the middle of the wilderness
Do we accept that drought is a part of life
That every day, every season, every year cannot produce a bumper crop
Do we migrate to new watering holes, abandoning the old vines
Seeking fertile pastures with abundant water
Do we drill deeper into the will and the spirit trying to wrest from the barren ground
Some new spiritual spring hidden deep within, some reserve that may or may not be there
Digging deeper so that we may truly exhaust the waters of life
Or do we pray for rain?

Neil White 2013

purple rose 01 by picsofflowers.blogspot.com