The Well.

I can't discrimate between yesterday and today, Thursday and Friday, for they all provoke in me a well of emotions. Old emotions, new emotions, concrete fortresses and wooden buckets that have twisting nails. I am the well that a foreigner never stops for. At the same time, I am the well that a vagrant considers, dismounting his horse companion and considering what reflections and purity taste like.

I am near and far from the ocean. Far away in the reality that I am 636 miles away from the Atlantic, and 2, 283 miles away from the Pacific. I have never become disoriented among the indefinite waves. I have seen water, serenaded it, danced with it, yet not understood it. I am unaware of what it holds.

So if you ever encounter me, truly submerge your eyes to my depth and absorb every thought. I may come to find I am living. That I am not just an object or a place of healing and replenishing for others, but also for myself. I thirst though your thirst is immediately satisfied, mine is always unabating.

I am a Samaritan, despised by the Jews yet called unique in our culture. My soul's flame is hot and the day is hot yet I dwell on, giving to the unfortunate.

Years elapse as seasons corrode me.

And still I am hushed, waiting to hear dry, dusty foosteps of a man who will give me everlasting water to drink. And the perplexity of my emotions will be mitigated once I realize these words:

"you have life within you."

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Written 03/21/14 @ 10:51 AM