It’s raining

A hundred years from now
New seeds will bear fruit,
You’ll see gardens bursting with
Elms, oaks, pine

Rivers in full spate, rushing by,;

Glens awash in roses, chrysanthemums,
Jasmine,
Our dreams of greened acres
All the things we yearn for today, but are too busy to find…

A hundred year wait will
Bring them up close
And personal
In our hearts,
Having worked through
Ravished terrain

To get there….

Smeetha, in response to prompt #4.