Petrichor

Bring me your rain—
cascading, cooling, cleansing
moisture from heaven.
I'm burnt, and tired
of putting out fires.
Burnished embers surround,
parched and lifeless
in the barrenness.
Everything good
has been consumed by flames.
I need hope; an oasis;
sweet relief.
Send your clouds
to weep on the land.
Fresh rain of life;
purifying showers.