The ox fell into the well.
What it was doing dancing
on the stone walls of the oasis
is no concern to me.
That he might not have
is no concern to me.
But the possibility
is essential because it
pushes me,
as it did the Pharisees
to answer His question.

But how ever they replied,
He had them.
So their answer was silence
and He, smiling at the broken man,
fixed him,
reaffirming in healing
an eternal meaning.
And as his eyes smile,
He shatters all attempts to
codify loving kindness,
to force it
into some
drip
by
drip,
man
written,
man
ruled
faucet.
Rather, He opens the floodgates of only love.