A poem by Ruth written after a paddle on Lake Albert
My creative juices are all dried up – dehydrated, desiccated
shrivelled and shrunken
Like my wizened features –
devoid of spare moisture.
A parched landscape. Cracked and furrowed
Dry autumn leaves, ready to drop
Colourful maybe, but already half dead…
The lake nearly dried up one year – many years of drought took their toll.
The shoreline receded, retreated
The waters shrank…and stank.
The shallows turned an unhealthy green.
The lake could no longer sustain the life within
Death floated to the surface and lingered in the air.
People feared it would never return to its former glory
What can be done? Is it too late?
But the first drenching rains refilled the lake, replenished our spirits, restored our hope.
Revive, O Lord, my vital flow.
I need your living water to renew my inner spring
and the oil of gladness to soothe my parchment skin.