|Sometimes a drip is enough. nevermindtheend/Flickr/CC BY-NC-ND 2.0|
When my words and energy and creativity must all flow past the page and into the world instead, I find myself sitting beside an empty well, staring into the dark hole, wondering if I should bust out my divining rod or just take the opportunity for a nap.
This wee entry is for that moment of wondering—the pause in productivity, the space between question and answer, the wait for the rain.
Prayer #377: Bottom of the Well
My well has run dry. I hear the wooden bucket thunk against the distant dirt, and though I was expecting the sound, I sigh nonetheless. A sip of cool water would be so refreshing right now, a nourishing jolt to my system. But from where I stand, seeking rejuvenation, I realize the water is immaterial; dropping the bucket anyway is my prayer.