God and Nature Summer 2023
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Water Cries: A Poem for Parched Seasons
By Cheryl Grey Bostrom
You brought the bucket, I see.
And cups.
Thank you.
Thank you.
We are so thirsty here,
this maple and I,
in soil harsh
for us trees:
fissured clay on
a parched August knoll,
where our roots suck air
and shrivel.
Oh, yes.
Pour on us.
Quiet our water cries,
hiccoughs of xylem,
sighs of smoky stomata
that exhale forests,
worlds aflame and
blowing our way.
We're dry,
so dry.
Dehydrated by longing,
tinder for lightning,
our shrunken cells wait
to gulp You,
Sluice of heaven.
Oh, water us.
And cups.
Thank you.
Thank you.
We are so thirsty here,
this maple and I,
in soil harsh
for us trees:
fissured clay on
a parched August knoll,
where our roots suck air
and shrivel.
Oh, yes.
Pour on us.
Quiet our water cries,
hiccoughs of xylem,
sighs of smoky stomata
that exhale forests,
worlds aflame and
blowing our way.
We're dry,
so dry.
Dehydrated by longing,
tinder for lightning,
our shrunken cells wait
to gulp You,
Sluice of heaven.
Oh, water us.
"O God . . .earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you in a dry and weary land where there is no water.”
—Psalm 63:1
"If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me . . . streams of living water will flow from within him.”
—John 7:37-38
"O God . . .earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you in a dry and weary land where there is no water.”
—Psalm 63:1
"If anyone is thirsty, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me . . . streams of living water will flow from within him.”
—John 7:37-38
Cheryl Grey Bostrom is a Pacific Northwest native, naturalist, photographer, and author of SUGAR BIRDS, winner of multiple literary awards, including Christianity Today’s 2022 fiction Award of Merit. A former teacher and columnist, she lives with her husband and three irrepressible Gordon setters in rural Washington State.