A well that succored countless
might now be dry.
At least its water
vapid, sullied, useless.
You would think.
But yours gives constant place
to purer still.
A draught
that seeps through sands of time
to cool in sorrows depths.
Then quenches thirst
for broken-hearted;
refreshes, soothes,
discouraged brow;
and cleanses
with its flood of righteous love,
the sin soiled soul.
This water you so freely give
goes ebb-less its eternal way.
A stream of Light
that widens with the years
and carries those
who ride upon its wave
to its Source
and End.
Steve Dunn Hanson

Veradale, Washington 2014