Channels

Who cuts a channel for the torrents of rain,
    and a path for the thunderstorm,
 to water a land where no one lives,
    an uninhabited desert,
 to satisfy a desolate wasteland
    and make it sprout with grass?
 Does the rain have a father?
    Who fathers the drops of dew?

Job 38: 25-28

Beneath the tumbled awning

Of a thunder-laden tress

A sudden jolt of dawning

Amplifies our nothingness

How oft have we, with troubled gaze

Traversed unfathomed deeps

Longing to understand the ways

Of One who never sleeps

But as we search the astral plains

From porticos of dust

He cuts a channel for the rains

…all we can do is trust

…in Him, who has a higher thought

Than man can realize

Beneath His touch nature is taught

And man, if he is wise

Beneath the tumbled awning

Of a thunder-laden tress

He whispers to our longing

And He fills our nothingness

© Janet Martin