Cool and clear,
I flow into the clay jar and wait to be poured out;
To purify and cleanse both body and soul.
Many times, have I been spent,
To collect impurity and soak it away into thirsty earth,
Only to be drawn up into air and tipped out over land once more.
Thus, has been my journey since word was first uttered.
Now word is spoken again, though not of air.
Purest note.
Not of, and yet of human voice.
Molecules vibrate, they jostle; dance in ecstasy.
Clear becomes colour.
Tasteless becomes sweet.
I am changed by the Word.