The terrace waters of Haifá’s Bahá’i gardens
cascade with a joyful tickling of the dressed stone beneath.
Defying the gravity of Mount Carmel, rushing and beckoning every drop to prostrate
themselves in pools of devotion.
Trickles of glory-intoxicated gurgles run in a rush of rivulets
divining in mirror-border channels.
Fountain-heads hydrating generous flushes
of thirst-quenching beauty.
Affirming syphons of an eternal spiritual Spring …
streaming stillness, with a paradisal-knowing, into the observing mind.