Don’t say, don’t say there is no water
to solace the dryness at our hearts.
I have seen
the fountain springing out of the rock wall
and you drinking there. And I too
before your eyes
found footholds and climbed
to drink the cool water.
The woman of that place, shading her eyes,
frowned as she watched – but not because
she grudged the water,
only because she was waiting
to see we drank our fill and were
Don’t say, don’t say there is no water.
That fountain is there among its scalloped
green and grey stones,
it is still there and always there
with its quiet song and strange power
to spring in us,
up and out through the rock.
2 thoughts on “Don’t say there is no water.”
Oh yes, it is there!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I saw the headline of your blog and thought this was going to be a post about water shortages – which are even happening here right now, at least a ban on watering lawns, because of some problem with the processing plant. This little poem puts a more generous spin on the statement, allowing the water to flow from us.
LikeLiked by 2 people