The water main was wet and broken.

Neon sign said,’Jesus Saves.’

We were quiet, no words spoken.

Traveling light down darkened caves.

There’s a moment in the mystery.

When Winston woke and gave the sign.

We could walk or run at misery.

Either one or leave is fine.

I’d grown tired of this direction.

More a sense of what one craves.

I can’t live without reflection.

Without the sign that Jesus saves.