We have always lived with water in a kind of fragile equilibrium. We have too much. We have none. A rich man calls for ice in his water, next to a poor man who thirsts. It is a precarious balance, between blessing and curse, between life and death, between plenty and scarcity.
The poor and the needy seek water a thirsty man dreams he drinks in his dream But when he wakes he is faint and his soul longs for water Open the rivers in high places open the fountains in the valleys I will make the wilderness a pool of water and the dry land springs of water I will pour water on the thirsty land and the floods upon the dry ground on the thirsty land.
