Planting with Hope
I worked because I hoped for coming rain.
The dry earth by itself could woo no growth
From seeds entrusted to its dusty care,
But there was still tomorrow,
Damp with hope.
I lingered for the lilacs were in bloom.
Great plumes of purple watched me as I raked
Prompting my trust, inspiring my desire
And there was still tomorrow,
Primed with hope.
I labored where the waves of scented wind
Embraced me, and continuing till dusk,
Thinned the rich air with freshened cool delight,
For there would be tomorrow’s
Rain, I hoped.
By Charles A. Waugaman
Welcoming Hope: Poems for those in need (2007, Elin Grace Publishing).
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