In the middle of the dark, A sound falls on her ears.

The sound of prayers answered, That eases some fears.

It has been a tough go, For the last little while.

Watching pastures dwindle, And a shrinking hay pile.

How long has it been, Since it wasn’t on her mind?

Probably longer than she thinks, As time leaves her behind.

Could they grow enough feed, To keep some of them back?

Cut down on their numbers, For the grass that they lack.

Was it all pointless, All the figuring in vain.

As prepared as they were, It still had to rain.

Would the bank understand, Or would they turn up the heat? What else could she cut, To help make ends meet.

She had just gotten up, To sit and to pray, To speak to the Lord, About strength for the day.

When just through the window, Was an unmistakable sound.

The soft pitter patter, Of rain on the ground.

Tears filled her eyes, As she bowed her head.

Sitting there quietly, On the edge of the bed.

She may not know the plan, Or even God’s reason.

But for all things, There still is a season.

As the rain poured down, She felt she could cope.

Because come what may, At least now there is hope.