What did he mean, that man who asked me for water?
“If you knew who it is…you would plead and you would get – living water.”
What did he mean, and why did he seem to look into
my eyes and see everything about me?
I am exposed, and yet–
How did he know so much about me yet there was no
judgment in those eyes,
brown lasers of mercy.
What did he say I could have—living water?
Never be thirsty again?
Dry? Oh, yes I’m dry—parched, split, bleeding.
Could he—that man with the laser eyes–Jesus–
A man, yes, but what kind of man?
Not the kind I’ve known.
Water my soul? Quench my thirst?
He said to ask; that’s what He said—ask.
Well, I’m asking, Sir.
No, I’m begging.
If you can wash, cleanse as you said
Oh Lord,
rain
down
on
me.
poetryforthejourney 