Why So Thirsty?

Why So Thirsty? / by Laura M Kaminski

Maybe there were seventy
Or maybe only eight
Who, unbeknownst to one another
Went creeping through the gate

The one had a bottle
The other had a jug
Another a jeweled chalice
(From which he’d dumped the dusty bug)

The one was guided by despair
The other lit with hope
Another by a donkey
(Who led him by a rope)

And in the darkness all of them
Went stumbling to the Stream —
The one that had a lacquered bowl,
The one that saw it in a dream

Each one thought himself alone
And filled his vessel up,
Shuffled back home through the dark
Careful not to spill the cup

They gathered up Reality
They filled up with the Truth
They bottled up Humanity
(And corked it so it can’t get loose)

Vessels of Separation
In every shape and size
Capped and corked and lidded
(So nothing dirty gets inside)

One says only his is Holy
Another acknowledges all the rest —
Magnanimous in his acceptance
(Suspects in secret his is best)

On holy days the thirsty gather
For a reassuring look
That water is still in their Bottle
(And God is safely in their Book)

Isn’t it strange and funny
We take such exquisite care
With the things we see as “Holy”
When Love is everywhere?

–Laura M Kaminski, 2014