For thus saith the Lord, Ye shall not see the wind,
neither shall ye see rain; yet that valley shall be filled with water.
(II Kings 3:17)

And you don't see the rain, and you don't feel a drop,
Flaming madness straying in sand;
And streams like warhorses wildly gallop —
From the rocks, into bony wadi' s band!

Where to? From secret regions they rush,
Busting dams, granite locks brought to life,
One stream meets another in a crush
And flows into him a sparkling knife.

Not for long. The juicy streams
Disappear. At the bottom, all that remains —
Grass in the wadi, full-blooded it teems,
Like green, long-trailing comet trains.