Desert Heart

I would bring praise to the
god of my gut
but You interrupt with the
Goodness of your Grace.
Milk and honey
to the bitter dry soul of a rebel.

The wicked desert -
broken, burned, bare.
I do not know what to do with
Rain Released
from Heaven.
Surely, it didn't come from my lands.

At the gathered water
look for new life
springing forth in the desert heart.
Aching for answers.
Saved by mystery
but I need not know why to be satisfied.