Oh water, source of life,
when I need you, I need you
which is all the time.
Oh water, you can’t blame
Moses for striking the rock
instead of talking to it.
These days, and those days
if you talk to a rock, no one
will listen. Not even the rock.
Oh water, if you can get
the rock to listen, be kind.
Even the rock will grow
deaf ears if you issue
demands with fury. Surely
you’re not angry with the rock?
It’s not the rock’s job to
give water anyway. Why
are you yelling at the rock?
Why are you hitting the rock?
What made you think the
rock would want to
develop any kind of flow?
Is this how you get what you
want? Is this how even
a rock should be treated?
Oh water, I need you like I
need you. I’m mostly you.
The best parts anyway.
Satisfying. Sustaining. Wet.
Is that redundant? Sorry,
wet is your best feature.
Oh water. Where am I going
with you? Rivers go where
they go and I’m just along
for the ride. Forty years in now
and there’s the Jordan.
Oh water it’s filled with you
and it won’t be long before
we cross over. Most of us.
We’re dropping like flies
in the desert. A sister, a brother
a generation of people who
remember Egypt’s soil. Gone.
Oh water will you recognize us
when we get there?
We can almost taste the
land that was promised.
Sorry about the yelling.
Sorry about the stick.
We couldn’t do this
without you.
