Well
There was a time
when wells were the
only source of water
and villagers would
congregate and share
while drawing life-giving
liquid from deep caverns
Now we are unaccustomed
to coming to the well
to slate our thirsts
We mindlessly
turn on taps
unaware that the
we have resources
on hand that our
ancestors would find magicalEqually unaware
that we have interior wells
that we can kneel beside
and quench
the thirst for things we
feel we don’t have or
worse, we don’t deserveThe well that taps us
to the source
the words that can reframe
our patterns of thinking
that keep us stuck
in a desert, parched
In the turbulence
find your well
find the vein
the water that gives you joyYou have no idea how many
miracles have been
whispered into existence
in the dark, alone, beside the well
© Tanya Southey
#52words52weeks
