Down to the Well - Poem 2006

Some of you have been encouraging me to find inspiration, to find those bits of poetry that are often scattered on the path half hidden by rocks I might trip over. And I have found inspiration again. Not on the run this time, though it is lurking there too.

For now, this inspiration is in the sacrifice of a goat to bring luck to well drilling in Afganistan, in the scenting of cotton to line a wooden box for the body of a man I never knew, in the wild danger of moose in Alaska, in the taste of strawberries and the scent of gasoline, in the love of a decades old friend, and in remembering that "courage atrophies from lack of use." Enjoy.



We all go down to the well
Carrying our thirst
for life
for love
for adventure
Digging deep for something that has meaning
sacrificing
shedding the blood of our dreams
burying our dead

If we are lucky enough to drill through stone
And we happen to have a little Grace
in the bottom of our pockets
We just might tap into something
that flows through us
like freedom
or surprise
or the autumn wind

We might find that delicate balance
between becoming ripe
and getting bruised
An echo
between the soundless space of fear
and the laughter of our childhood
A taste of courage
nearly atrophied

Perhaps there are new habits to acquire
under new skies
untainted by the bitterness of disappointment
and steeped in the warmth of decades
A starting point
to rev our souls to motion
and our hearts
past desire
and toward redemption

We can stop starving ourselves
by waiting for tomorrows
we can laugh at the sun
and dance in the rain
wearing the shoes that didn’t drop
until all the doors are unlocked
and the table is as full of life’s feast
as our mouths with the rich taste of Now

Lisa B