I look to the sky that I may see clouds rising over the sea. 

There is a drought upon the land; a vast unholy drought.

The souls of men are shriveled up with the dryness of sin, yet they do not perceive.

I look to the horizon, and my ears strain against the breeze.  Will I see the water of life give life to what is dead?

Will men fall on their shriveled knees to beg for the mercy of God?  They already stand proudly, defiantly, dead.

Where is the blazing glory of God among all men?  Where is his name first among the words of men?  Where is the boldness of life?

I look toward the rising sun. 

I watch to where it sets. 

I peer with failing eyes at where the moon will rise.

With anxious heart I wait.