Water at the Well

In prayer,
I dig my well deeper.
I count it all joy,
Though sorrow may seep
Through my walls.

Bubbling up,
Through muddy ground,
Pure and fresh
With hope,
Pure water emerges,
Gladdening as an eternal spring..

I am become,
A drink of water,
Drawn by the stranger,
Who meets me in his thirst.

Copyright 2014 Joann Nelander

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