There were a thousand years behind that hand
the cloth, pregnant with water,
hides the universe
gestating forever and always.

Together they press against an ancient brow
weary more from years than heat;
a symbolic gesture.

The way the sun hits the falling water
shatters it across the stonework.
At this altitude it looks like
anthropology screaming;
an echo of countless others
refracted exactly here

[None of this is captured on the magazine cover
only so much can be seen in pictures]