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Zach Winters
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Storehouse
I had a dream that we packed away
all of our things into a boat for a long time,
and we watched uneasily as the waters took
all our houses underneath as it climbed the mountainside.
Plenty will there be from this year's harvest,
even though the man said there wouldn't be much
rain in the ground for this year's harvest.
Adding to the storehouse, hallelujah!
And can you remember last year's harvest?
Living in a dry land - how did we eat that year?
was like a dead cloud hung above us
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with an empty wind, but we had enough.
Didn't we? Didn't we have enough?
Imagine this land being drenched with water till we can't see...
hearing it fall and resound and scatter
till we can't hear ourselves sing...
And plenty will there be from next year's harvest -
scattering the seeds with an open hand and
remembering more than sparrows his thoughts are of us;
even if the rain stops, hallelujah!
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