I drove four miles this evening
Down the road to see the miracle
Of pastures greening.

They'd come to life this Spring
To lick the rivulets of melting snow,
Lichens before wild grasses, glistening,
But then a blistering summer blow
Came to patch their roots.

Just last week a quarter inch of wet
Fell from a Treasury on high
To tell the famished carpet,
"Wait a while! Storm clouds are nigh!"

And yesterday a full wet inch
Of heaven's grace and mercy flowed
From the billowed Throne's high bench
To rally grassy supplicants to grow.