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Go on Faith!
Go on Faith!
Scorched sand sizzled hot with a blister.
Rising heat sucked the air out the day
and the motionless Sun, like an unblinking eye,
poked bones and my brains in its way.
I buckled to my knees from exhaustion
and my face hit the sand full flat.
Without water, each breath was a dry pain hurting
and my blood thickened more from its lack.
A pump handle shimmered in the day’s heat
and I focused crawling to it ‘cross the land.
Hanging there was a sign “Go North five feet.
Dig for water in a box in the sand.”
Scratched eyes searched frantic for its pinpoint.
Charred fingers clawed the sand going deep.
As I dug with a frenzy, then I felt something hard.
Had I liquid for some tears, I would weep.
In the box, I found a bottle full of water.
“Don’t Drink” said the jug’s top sign.
“Pour half, prime the pump then wait five.
Pour the other half in, pump nine.”
I blistered in my madness for the water.
Five minutes more of thirst was too great.
I twisted off the lid and I tilted up the jug
but those words “Don’t Drink” made me wait.
After nine pumps, I fell against the handle.
Liquid sputtered then it spurted from the spout.
I was drenched and wallowed, bathed and swallowed
in water sweet by words I rued to doubt.
And on the bottom of the bottle was a clear sign,
“Fill this bottle for the box, please do,
for the next soul searching for a life raft
who may have to go on Faith like you!”
Namyh
Scorched sand sizzled hot with a blister.
Rising heat sucked the air out the day
and the motionless Sun, like an unblinking eye,
poked bones and my brains in its way.
I buckled to my knees from exhaustion
and my face hit the sand full flat.
Without water, each breath was a dry pain hurting
and my blood thickened more from its lack.
A pump handle shimmered in the day’s heat
and I focused crawling to it ‘cross the land.
Hanging there was a sign “Go North five feet.
Dig for water in a box in the sand.”
Scratched eyes searched frantic for its pinpoint.
Charred fingers clawed the sand going deep.
As I dug with a frenzy, then I felt something hard.
Had I liquid for some tears, I would weep.
In the box, I found a bottle full of water.
“Don’t Drink” said the jug’s top sign.
“Pour half, prime the pump then wait five.
Pour the other half in, pump nine.”
I blistered in my madness for the water.
Five minutes more of thirst was too great.
I twisted off the lid and I tilted up the jug
but those words “Don’t Drink” made me wait.
After nine pumps, I fell against the handle.
Liquid sputtered then it spurted from the spout.
I was drenched and wallowed, bathed and swallowed
in water sweet by words I rued to doubt.
And on the bottom of the bottle was a clear sign,
“Fill this bottle for the box, please do,
for the next soul searching for a life raft
who may have to go on Faith like you!”
Namyh
Published 23rd Feb 2024
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