The ground is hard, dry from no rain
Winter is far from my eyes
My body weak and in pain
My vision is clear of what the hard work will bring
Every stroke of the pick breaks a piece of my insides
Like the pounding waves bringing in the tides
The clouds begin to form, dark and gloomy
Carrying with them doubts flowing through me
The rain begins to fall covering the body of land
Filling the heart of it and turning it into sand
I begin to feed the soil as the seeds leave my hands
Soaking in the joy of the rain upon my face
I realized a change was taking place

Galatians 6:7

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