At the Well

I thirst.
There are streams of living water,
flowing endlessly, pools wide open,
deeper than man, unrestrained.
All who are thirsty, come,
all who are thirsty, drink,
all who are thirsty, be satisfied.
What is full cannot be filled,
muddy cisterns, dirty puddles;
what is dry does not seek
and shall never find.
Those who drink shall never go thirsty;
where is this water,
who is giving this water,
why do we not have this water?
Living streams, overwhelming torrents;
from that hour the water flows
and every hour still man dies of thirst,
under the river from the threshold,
beneath the river from the belly,
and none drink for none know how.
The water, the wine, the blood,
flow and fill and fulfill,
the witness to all since received,
washed and made clean, red then white.
Rivers and streams, bless the Lord;
waters and wind over the waters,
change the world.
There is water from the side,
one need but drink and never
thirst again.

This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s