‘Drip’ go the tears of Adam and Eve,
watering the garden they sadly leave.
‘Drip’ goes the rain on the roof of the ark
as faithful Noah and his kin embark.
‘Drip’ goes the oil on the heads of kings
anointed for holy or shameful things.
‘Drip’ goes the water from the Baptist’s hand,
rough with the dryness of the desert sand.
‘Drip’ goes the sweat that beads Peter’s brow,
for the future Rock is a coward now.
‘Drip’ goes the blood of a man crucified,
from his thorn-torn head, his hands, feet and side.
‘Drip’ goes the brine from the soaked clothes of Paul,
saved by his faith from the waves and the squall.
‘Drip’ go the drops in the heavenly feast,
where the least are greatest, the greatest least;
and now all the tears, the rain, sweat and brine,
the blood, oil and water are turned to wine.
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