Analysis of Cana

The woman told us to do it.
Pleasant obliging face
Enjoying the Feast.
Her Son over in the corner
By the indoor fig tree.
whatever He tells us to do.
However odd we must
Be about it.
Celebration Steward is
In a tizzy, for sure.
Wine is running out.
Everyone expects more.
It’s a Wedding.
Son now gesturing to us.
No one else supposed to notice.
“Fill those pots with
Water of washings.
Over there in the larger cisterns.
Take that water to Steward to sample.”
Oh brother, what will be accomplished?

Wine, yeah wine
Best wine of the Feast. Wow.
Who is that Son anyways?

(It is as if the departing music of the Lone Ranger can now be heard. And the hoofbeats of Silver, his trusty horse. I used to listen to those radio shows. Yeah, Radio.)