The Well

By accident one day I found a well,
Someone had dug and bricked it years ago
And used it and moved away, the water stayed sweet
As if it tapped a vein with a steady flow.

I cleaned it out, I know the roots of life
Are thirsty every day, there’s seldom enough
Water to waste, sometimes not even to drink
All you would like and then it becomes precious stuff.

And when sand under your eyelids truly describes
The hope of harvest withered beyond control,
Then a drink from Moses’ fountain cupped in your hand
Restoreth the spirit and the spirit makes us whole.