The withering glare
of heartless rays,
All day has beaten
down.
And from the mountain
and rocks and trees
Rises exhausted haze.
Now man and beast
heave a sigh of relief
As the sun sinks to
its rest.
And the shade of dusk
rejuvenates
Where heat all day
has pressed.
A full moon sheds a
gentle glow
While rising from the
east.
And a coyote howls an
eerie tune,
The song of a
ravenous beast.
The ground is parched
in this high desert land,
And nary a cloud has
been found,
To send some rain to
dying plants
And water the thirsty
ground.
But wait, what was
that? That pierced the dark
In brief, but
malevolent gleam.
A spark born down
from a wire up high,
As in a nightmarish
dream.
Quickly it takes, and
fans to a flame,
Its appetite
explosively grows.
While embers glowing
like evil eyes,
Fly in the wind the
blows.
Now a fire, fiendish
and wild
Roars through
mountain and tree.
And beast and bird
ahead of its path
In terror, blindly
flee.
But now in the path
of the scorching blaze
People are sleeping in
peace,
Unaware of the fate
that screams
In a sprint across
the east.
A glow of orange in
the window pain,
Rouses a boy from his
bed.
He gazes amazed at
the scene outside,
A landscape turning
to red.
Then the cold hand of
fear grips on his heart.
And panic takes over
his mind.
He turns and dashes
out of the room.
A safer place to
find.
Where can he go? He’s
surrounded it seems,
Flames lick on every
side,
They flicker around
and light every space,
And leave not a nook
where to hide.
He pauses just for a
second and stares,
And then through the
smoke comes a thought,
Of something his
mother often has said
A truth she had
carefully taught.
That way up above,
past the sky and the stars
Is Someone who knows
everything
He sees and He hears,
even a child,
That kneels with a
question to bring.
So the boy knelt, and
clasping his hands,
In a whisper for
safety to bring,
His words were borne,
up through the flames
And brought before
the great King.
So the house, with
the boy inside,
Was covered with a
mighty hand.
The fire howled in
fury and heat,
But the house
continued to stand.
With a gust of wind
the fire was passed,
And in its wake was
seen,
Ashes and rubble in
smoking heaps,
Where once the town
had been.
But like an island in
a sea of gray,
Unscathed one house had
stayed.
A testament of the
power that came
Because one small
child prayed.
