42 degrees celsius

long summer shadows
dry heat of the sun
creeping up slowly
when day is done

not a whisper of breeze
the whole world awaits
in hope that the night air
some solace creates

like parched weary ground
the waiting soul knows
how long a day seems
and how the thirst grows

when off in the distance
the size of a fist
hope clouds are brewing
rain still does exist

though temperatures soar
the wait seems unending
don't give up too soon
on the showers He's sending

when nothing remains
no self-strength or glory
He'll work the impossible
and finish your story