Desolate despite
the company of crickets spiders, cicadas,
thousands of earthworms busily plowing beneath the new grass.
The light rains beckon them upward to take long drinks.
I can tell they are laughing together and generally making merry
at a hundred parties for which I've received no invitation nor hope of one.
Like a king in his castle with not one friend nearby,
surveying the busy populace below, he sighs.
I recognize the rain, invite it as close as the porch roof,
and we are company for each other.
Why desolate, why lonely, God?
When your Spirit ministers close by. Just here, even beside me.
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