Water and worry leak
to the lowest level,
a fool’s pool
spiraling the spirit
to depths
beneath the necessary steps.
It takes hydro-logic
to lift water
higher than clouded despair.
To rise as steam,
we admit wet
as requisite.
Our Engineer’s faith;
part bending knee,
part pouring cups
to the least of these,
cuts across current fashion,
chiding the waves to be still.
There is living water
and there is a stagnant well.
One can’t flow forward
by going back.
The well worn path is reasonable,
but making sense of resistance, is mist.
