sometimes i think i must be like that big, black cat--the social drinker (he learned from watching tiny grey)--who didn't see me turn the faucet to drip, and he yowls in thirsty protest. i'm in the shower and it's wet all around; he has no idea how abundant the water really is.
i sing shower-serenades, old hymns (the kind i know best), and i don't know the abundance pouring through me either.
Water on the human forehead,
Birthmark of the love of God
Is the sign of death and rising
Through the seas there runs a road.
There is water in the river
Bringing life to tree and plant.
Let creation praise its giver;
There is water in the font.
(2nd verse, out of deep, unordered water)