Go to the Well at Siloam

Tell the waters who sent you.
Soak in them. There’s nothing special
about Siloam, nor in your moans.
What matters are your eyes, waiting

in their silt-sealed caverns to be
seen and to see. They’re universes
veined by the spectrum of light and color,
absorbing and reflecting heaven. The word

of truth into the reviling crowds
nattering about what matters.
So many graveled words—dry, broken, grave.
They growl about who to blame

for your condition before and after Siloam
because your unsealed eyes blind them
by revealing the weakness of their sight.
What matters is, you’ve been sent,

now you see, and what you know
can hone rocks into stones
for a hearth, for slings,
for riverbeds, for a home.

(John 9)