Thursday, November 15, 2012

"The Well of Grief" by David Whyte

Those who will not slip beneath
    the still surface on the well of grief 
turning downward through its black water
    to the place we cannot breathe 
will never know the source from which we drink,
    the secret water, cold and clear, 
nor find in the darkness glimmering
    the small round coins
       thrown by those who wished for something else.

 from Where Many Rivers Meet
©2007 Many Rivers Press

Source: Blue Peninsula by Madge McKeithen, p. 82

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