In this wasteland
of trials and tribulation
pain and suffering
illness and loss
my soul longs for solace
for Your refreshing waters
but there is only drought
My soul is parched
cracking at its brittle seams
thirsting for Your well of grace
And yet I realize
the well is there for the drawing
it is I who have failed
to lower my bucket
and drink deeply
——-
Yesterday at dVerse Poets Pub, Walter called for poems about either drought or deluge. I chose drought.