Wait For Me

A most exquisite purple flower was waiting for a summer shower. It had not rained in many days and only hot and burning rays were lavished on the tiny flora but prayer to the Cantadora was not rewarded with success it seemed that spirits could care less. For forty days and forty nights the flower kept within her sights all clouds in hopes that they would cry but nothing happened, time went by. On Christmas day the rains then started but many plants had gone, departed the purple flower had held up projected from her petals' cup a message written in dark green it was precise and could be seen in Heaven and, of course, in Hell and when at last the raindrops fell God read the message he could see it said, 'dear God, please wait for me.'