A
puddle of water
looks
like a muddy mess
until
the breeze feathers
the
surface
and,
like a light touch,
on
a water glass,
leaves
a .
Speaking
in metaphors,
bringing
to light her secret
story
of man after man after –
We
too
often
don’t know
the
voice of God
until
he has
passed
us by, us
hiding
in the dry
well
of our own selves:
Eventually
he says,
I am he but mostly
we
see smudged prints
on
the glasses
stacked
in the sink
waiting
to be washed.
There
is water.
Look
up from the dishes
and
see the fields,
the
thirsty hearts.
--Joel E. Jacobson
A Samaritan Woman Sitting at Jacob’s Well
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