When The Well Runs Dry

The well of creation
is a fickle pool
from which to gain sustenance.

Running dry when you
need it the most.
Overflowing at the most
inopportune times.

Gurgling with choking mud
when a clear drink would
quell the thirst hanging
on parched lips.

Cool and pure when the lips
refuse to open to
receive the gifts it offers.

As the well runs dry,
sharpen your ax and knock
the rust from your shovel.

Dig into the rock of
the obscure art of living,
mining the hard, but sparkling
gemstones of experience

until the well of creation
begins to flow again
with the pure waters
of innocence.

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