The Rock

I've come to strike the rock.
I know that's not what you asked for.
I know that's not what you commanded.
You want me to speak to the rock.
Beg the rock for the indulgence of a trickled stream.
Ask politely, seek meekly, and don't get upset
When I still find myself thirsty in the desert.
But I've come to strike the rock.

I don't care if striking the rock excludes me.
I'll bear the sins of a broken command.
Bar me from the promise.
Turn your anger and your wrath on me.
Curse me if that's what it takes to prove you're real:
Weigh me down with the burdens of my iniquity.
But I can't keep waiting for the water to flow on its own.
I've been begging for such a long time.
I'm dying of thirst when the water is right here!
I've come to strike the rock.

So, please...show me where the rock is.
Help me find the source of water.
Or else, bury me with the other wanderers.
One more lost soul unable to limp his way
To the spout where the glory allegedly comes out.

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