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Woman at the Well 


by Beth Houston





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Woman at the Well

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“You have no bucket, and this well is deep,”
She counters. He explains soul’s inner spring,
Alive, refreshes like arousing sleep
To consciousness, like foot evolving wing
The miracle transcends, eternal life
Its source, as water’s essence is life: Think
What prophets craved its taste, what barren wife
Trudged up this vulture mountain for one drink
From this plain cup — our common mother’s thirst
Forever quenched. We are God’s temple, blessed
Our bubbling baptized spirits gushing burst
These water-jars like sex, Creation’s zest!
I’ve come, your unborn child, your Christ, to teach
You how to worship: Cup your hands, and reach.

 The Toreador Fresco


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