A person pours a glass of water, sets it on the counter, and waits for it to settle. Then, half-seriously, they start asking it questions: What am I doing here? Which way should I go? What color is sleep? These are huge, lonely questions, the kind people usually carry around at night, but here they're put to the most ordinary thing in a kitchen.
The water doesn't answer in words. Instead it "rose from the glass," which the speaker compares to a genie, though a slow one that takes "its own sweet time." That image is playful, and it hints at something real. Water left to sit does evaporate, so the answer is quiet and gradual, and it doesn't come on demand.
The mood is calm, curious, and gently humorous. The speaker seems unhurried, even comfortable with not knowing. The poem suggests that patience and attention may be a kind of reply in themselves.