Water from a Stone

The stone they rolled away

the same that the builders rejected

served, as a foundation

built upon this rock.

Carried here

buried here

interred, with naught a word.

 

And the boy did not talk

for some time.

 

The shoot, gave root

and stood as it should–

the willow wept, for those

left behind.

He went to them at night

never in the flesh, but

in speaking, seeing dreams

laughing amid their branches

arms drooping, scooping him up

 

cradling him into the dawn.

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