Turn From A Desert To Watered Garden Poem by Paul Mwenelupembe

Why there are seasons in deserts
That percolated situations are calculated
From the most high yet island exists
Of which saturated is better goes unsaturated
And the end of bad to worse
And earmarks later from better to best

Why is it that deserts are neither
permanent nor the watered garden
Does the craziest thing
And better smile of green breast
And emit all that pours from above

For if Christ was invited
Closer to his doors' touch
Watered in a garden of eve
Is here to rest
To get over neat best timeline

For his journey in clouds
To endless abssy of doom's day
Is in the watered garden
And turns breath from yearning desert
To watered garden of eve