Huge drops of rain pound at the dust. The air is as sweet and ripe as a red grape.

Dust turns to dirt, and dirt becomes soil.

And the water finds out the dry stream beds.

Pushing into cracks and parched ground. Seeking out the seeds long left behind.

Opening again those forgotten kernels of truth and life and letting them become again what they once came from.

Falling on his head. Running down his beard.

Anointing .

Baptising.

Bathing and soothing.