The First Drop

The First Drop

By Kateb Shunnar

Before thunder breaks, before clouds swell with the voice of longing,

There is a whisper between the realms

A silent decree from the throne of grace.

It is not the sky that decides,

Nor the wind that commands But the breath of the Most High,

Moving in stillness over the waiting land.

What makes the first drop of rain fall?

Is it not mercy kissing the forehead of the soil?

Is it not compassion draping itself over the dust of our weariness?

Is it not the Creator remembering His promise

To never leave His beloved dry for too long?

When the earth groans beneath cracked silence,

And prayers rise like incense from broken hearts,

He listens not to the noise of need

But to the sincerity of surrender.

The first drop falls

When heaven bends down and says,

"Enough. Let them be refreshed."

It is not accident or atmosphere

It is covenant.

It is the heartbeat of divine timing.

The rain doesn’t fall because the sky is full;

It falls because the soul is empty

And God is full.

The first drop is not water it is hope.

It is the tear of the unseen weeping for the seen.

It is the kiss of promise to the seed long buried.

It is the sacred hush before the hallelujah of storms.

O my soul, do not curse the drought.

Do not fear the dry season.

For the first drop is not delayed it is deliberate.

Held by the hand of the Eternal,

Waiting for the perfect moment

To touch you,

To anoint you,

To wake the rivers within you.

And when it falls

Just one drop

The whole sky changes.

The whole earth exhales.

And you know

He has remembered you.