"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