Little cactus sitting still
Waiting for a watering
Never have you known He will
Rain on you again

But it really is not rain
For the Master chooses it
Chooses when to turn the main
Drench you to the brim

So this dryness is from Him
You accept it and you wait
But it hurts for light is dim
No water at night

Long since flowers grew on you
Long since you could give them Him
Nothing blooms and nothing’s new
But the choice is His