There’s still water in the well

As we move through misty mornings,
there is bird song in the air.
As you engage the Holy book
you seek the meaning there.

The old prophets have a story,
that they still wish to tell.
Death doesn’t broker silence,
there’s still water in the well.

Hitch your bucket to the rope line,
start its journey through the dark.
Be not afraid of what is down there,
as on this mission you embark.

For within your filled up bucket,
will shimmer truth and water bright.
When it breaks the well’s dark surface
colour captivates the light.

Time collapses in its reaches,
ancient and modern in your hand.
As you begin to sip the water,
so you’ll start to understand.

That the message hasn’t varied,
since they walked upon this land.
New words, clothe ancient wisdom,
yet man fails to understand.

That the inner, and the outer, worlds
are housed within his frame.
If he doesn’t meet his challenges,
he’ll just have to come again.