I am a pitcher.   Maybe a carafe or decanter.  No, nothing so exotic as that, I am a jug.  A plain brown jug.  Yes, thats it, I’m a jug.  My point is, I am a vessel. 

OK, I am sure I lost you on that one.  Answer the riddle with a query of your own.  What does a vessel do, what is its purpose?  Yes!  Right indeed.  I have been constructed, somehow through genetic pre-disposition, to carry something.  

I hold within myself an enormous capacity to love.  I am a bearer of love, if you will.  What does a jug long to do?  What is it’s sole purpose?  To pour out it’s contents to a willing receptacle.  To fill the cup, of someone whom I love, would be a fitting analogy. 

My problems are multiple and complex in their very nature.  What could possibly have a more saddening reality, than a jug full to the brim, with no one seeking a draught from it? 

How empty indeed, a brimming full jug with no one, thirsty to receive it’s contents.   I wander through life, full to the very brim, seeking someone to partake of my bounty. 

The cup I walk through life with hath not a single desire for the brimful content I yearn to pour upon her.  She thirsts not, for the sweet fulfillment, I long to give her.  Her soul is parched, but she doesn’t thirst for me. 

I steadily plod through life, seeking someone to pour myself on, but alas, there are none wishing to drink from my well.     There seems not to be a thirst longing to be quenched from what I hold within. 

©2006 J.L. Day