No Longer Thirsty

She gathered them one by one And put them in a basket She looked at each face and called them All flowers He walked through the fields and sang The field sang back He named all the children of the field And they smiled back Under the sycamore tree they met The shade was cool It was noon and the sun was high They did not speak For a long time nothing moved The silence was good They understood The air held its breath The day grew long and thirsty She offered him a cup It was a broken cup He thanked her He took the broken cup and filled it With water from a brook The brook was nearby When he returned it was empty She drank of the empty cup The water was cool She thanked him For a long time nothing moved The day grew long and tired He took the cup and covered it With flowers from the basket They understood In the shade the flowers sang The air held its breath The brook was nearby They were tired Under the sycamore tree they slept The shade was cool It was late and the sun was low In a dream they met For a long time nothing moved The flowers slept In their dream she awoke She took the broken cup It was night and the moon was high She took the broken cup and filled it With flowers from the basket The brook was nearby The sycamore tree became a willow She went to the brook and looked The flowers wept in their sleep It was empty and dry In the brook she found a book She opened the book and looked It was empty The fields became a desert and it was late In their dreams he awoke Under the willow he dug a hole The roots were thirsty She returned with the book and looked It was night and the moon was low The desert was cool and the flowers slept They understood She looked at the hole and wept He took the book and offered it to the hole It was empty The roots were thirsty For a long time nothing moved She took the book and put it in the hole The willow was thirsty They covered the book with sand It was night and the flowers slept In the dream they slept under the willow The book was thirsty It was late and the sand became loam The empty brook nearby was tired The flowers awoke and looked at the loam They dug a hole and found the book It was early and the moon became the sun They understood In the dream they awoke under an oak She looked at the flowers and wept He took the book and offered it to the flowers It was cool and the sun smiled Under the oak the flowers sang The book was filled with names The names were thirsty She took the book and read it to the flowers She looked at the flower faces and called them Each by their names One by one they smiled and wept In the dream they were no longer thirsty