Along the river's edge
a figure bends
to dip his earthen pots
into its vital flow

they sip the precious liquid
shimmering and crystalline
like diamonds floating
above the eclipse of the sun

they become transformed
from dormant vessels
wearing the dull
pallor of mud
to vibrant cisterns
radiating the glow
of polished jade

they breathe away
exhaustion
in frothy currents
rushing
past swollen lips

to join the constant stream

till he bows low
and receives their treasure
suspended from a wooden frame
with frayed and twisted rope
solidified not yet petrified
soaking yet and squeezing still
the moisture dripping
from their fill

he lifts the wooden frame
upon his shoulders
and keeps its balance
with his arms
his back strains
his legs straighten
as they raise their heavy load

he looks up
with eyes set deep
beneath his furrowed brow
thick parchment skin
and thistled hair
are all that shield him
here and now

he sees the road
that he will take
this time around
and sets one foot
before the other

away from solid ground

he goes to bring
to those who
find him
the lading
in his care

he goes to meet them
in that place

past faith
past dreams
past hope