Water Knows The Secret by Jacqueline Jules

My new phone is a foreign country

using an alphabet I can’t decode.

The soap I’ve used for the last decade

has disappeared from grocery shelves.

Even my bank was sold,

and I can’t remember its new name.

No wonder I feel unsteady,

in need of my blue-haired neighbor’s

metal walker.


Once, I heard on the news

that people who live the longest,

with the most satisfaction,

are the most resilient,

meaning they resemble the

leak in my upstairs shower—

always finding a new way

to drip through the ceiling

no matter how many times

the plumber says it’s fixed.


So the secret

is to be as fluid as water,

gliding graciously

into each new space ahead.

Pour eight ounces into a bowl

or a glass. See how it spreads out

or rises upward without grumbling.

Water doesn’t stop to mourn

favorite products or places—not even

a cracked pipe it once called home.


Jacqueline Jules is a poet, teacher, librarian, and author of twenty-five children’s books including Zapato Power and Miriam in the Desert. Her poetry has appeared in numerous journals including the September 2012 issue of Inkapture. Learn more about her here.