I Take My Bucket to the Well
I made a list
to take with me to the well —
to be filled
before I kick the bucket.
Oh so funny this phrase —
kicking the pail
spilling our hopes and dreams
whatever we optimistically placed there
Expecting great deeds from a mustard seed.
Myself, I was modest,
My needs were not many though my desires were plenty — for love
In all its shapes and forms
from Filia to Agape and all the iterations in between
including that from a partner who knows pure love
from loving himself,
filling his cup so that it can flow into mine
all the time,
and me drinking from the wishes fulfilled by a benevolent sky.
I saw you there, standing in the shadows of the wellhouse
As if waiting for me to come along.
What took you so long?
I have been around the universe and back so many times
Each turn hoping that this revolution would be the initiation of our exploration — together.
I was busily disbelieving
that the impossible was not possible —
not even slightly probable.
Until my bottom dropped out and I had no choice
but to head for the source of it all.
Thank you for waiting
Let us begin.
© I. Trudie Palmer