The Dry Season In Heaven by S. E. Johnson

The Dry Season In Heaven

We had prayed long and hard,
Still the rain failed the empty sky,
Long time we gathered near the sea,
Remembering the days it was not dry.

We entered the valley after land fall,
Divided the world up fair and even.
Then it was lush and full of hope,
We named our new home Heaven.

One never knows how delicate,
How fragile an ecology might be.
We believed the Planners knew all,
We entered the world hopeful and free!

It never was our world at all,
We were the strangers, the invaders,
Taking what was never really ours,
Selling it to off world traders.

We gathered near the sea and pillaged,
Claimed the fruits of our labor,
Lived as we wished taking no thought,
Nary a one for our unseen neighbor.

Slowly the rains diminished from heaven,
The sky grew austere and pale,
The sea edged away from us retreating,
Our crops and beasts began to fail.

Then we began to pray over heaven,
Our knees grew calloused in the sand,
Lips parched from relentless suns,
We wept over Heaven's barren land.

This then is the dry season of Heaven,
We know not how long it will last,
When the great ships return again,
The time of mans sojourning will be past.

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