Her Elijah

Who am I if I
Cannot command the clouds
In this
Her hour of need, and summon from them
A hopeful down pouring
A covenant flood
While she, full of sorrow
Knows, at present, only drought?

Threshold 

Pray may the driving rain be soft’d
By gentle hand and easing wind

Would that the biting cold bring too
Voice sweet as upward floating snow 

And as stolen daylight takes
Please bring giving, steadfast legs

So to soothe…lift…carry me
Tho’ I deserve no charity