Fresh on the ground as the morning due, warming themselves in the days first rays of light the lambs lie waiting for a reason to rise. Dry as the weather has been, the dust stirs on the slightest of breezes and the browned off grass is bare of nourishment that the babes will need to grow.
Bleating for the rain to come and renew their patch of earth in green and rich new grass, they sit and wait for their fate to lead them home. "Will it come?", the farmer looks to the wide blue expanse above and asks himself a thousand times a day.