IMG_7299Come to the well, my love.

Make a cup of your hands.

Scoop up handfuls of liquid silver

shimmering with the sun’s each ray.

Let the coolness

slide down your weary palms and wrists

drenching your arms in gladness.

Let water touch your lips

like the moist kiss of a lover

quenching your parched and lonely

desert soul

where seeds long to be watered.

Taste the sweetness of hope

blossoming on your tongue

singing songs of wonder

speaking words of praise.

Let this sacred wellspring

fill you to the tips of your wiggling toes

dancing on holy ground.

Know this place as your own

your birthright

a divine grace

freely given.

Protect it as if

your life depends on it.

Keep it as pure

as the driven white snows of winter

sparkling as the fragile faith of spring.

For wells can become bitter waters

steeped in poisonous leaves

of petty concerns.

You will know them by their colors:

green envy

yellow cowardice

blood red hatred

the seductive purple of gossip.

If you taste these

spit them out.

Contaminated waters

erode trust

tarnish the truth

rust what is good

destroy what is life giving.

Come to the well of life, my love.

Living waters move

in your blood

the same self stuff as mine.

A sacred trust

whose guardians are named

you

me

we

us

together

one

whole

life.

Come to the well, my love.

Let us be nourished.

 

 

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