Duty of Passion

I. the man trekked with a humbled mind
          over Hill & Valley to collect water
          from the Mountain spring, fresh and clear as a
          cloudless Sky
          into the clay Vessel
          to be transported
          back to the village, to the people, to his charges
          the cold blue winter Sun oversaw this task
          and silently
          challenged every step

II. he saw the Sky in the eyes of his client
          or was it the Mountain Spring before him?
          vacillating between wonderment
          and humility
          the walls faded away
          the sterile room was no longer

III. dark Hills rimmed with dense Clouds
          pouring over the Treetops, they stole his gaze
          flocks of Black Birds flew high amid the Ridges
          in a dance as pure as Spring Water

IV. the woman sitting before him
         tears streaming
         emotionless, stoic, otherwise
         pleading with the gods
         for respite from the deep pain within
         the walls returning
         a new life, do they hold

V. alive with the breath of Nature - they meld as one
          the pale blue walls
          the gray cloudy Sky
          the phosphorescent lights
          the dark Mountains
          the generic gray carpet
          the village below

VI. and the Clay Vessel with Fading Words
     All Is Held
      Within This Moment