The Well

The well.
Where I go
seeking peace,
to find nourishment.

But it is dry.
I know
because I’ve
been here before.

It has been dry,
but I’m conditioned
to come back.

Hoping for more.
Wishing for something,
that, I guess,
may never be.

I sit.
Frustrated.
Disappointed.
Hurt.

Yearning for
that peace
and nourishment.

A friend
comes to sit.

With me
in my sorrow,
she listens.
She comforts.
She gives me water.

She reminds me
this isn’t
the only well.

I can choose
to visit another.

She says
there is
another source
for that peace.
For nourishment.

But I
have to choose
to take a different route.
To go to
a new place.

So we venture.
Hand in hand
to her well.

Peace, joy,
and laughter
are present.

Pure acceptance.
Deep nourishment.
Real love.

And in the midst
of all these gifts,
He reminds me
of the one true well.

Always full.
Always available.
Enduring,
lasting,
freely given.

I am filled.
I am held.
At this well.