The Well
Back to the well, the source of
all hope. Filled with bones and
stony love, she resonates below
the surface of my blinding thirst.
I go there when I am lost, to
sense her fertility, my lineage,
to feel my tears, to be reincarnated,
to fill my deep emptiness.
Dark and deep shaft, go down
to her heart, the underworld
of her soul, and teach me to
see beyond my pall legacy.
I can never be the well, only
the slave, the prodigal setting sun.
Copyright © James Fredholm | Year Posted 2013
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