Thirst

The sun beats down upon the brow;
its pulsing pounding causes pain,
as cotton, trapped by rough parched lips,
keeps pushing on the swollen tongue.

Then visions dance upon the mind
of sweet refreshing crystal pools
and ordered thoughts evaporate
as strength begins to ebb from limb.

The pounding throbbing head gives in
as vision blurs and strength gives out.
Then lying on the hard dry ground,
one thought alone is kept: "water"

When life beats down upon the soul
with heartache, cruelty and spite
and causes pain beyond belief
The soul begins to seek respite.

Then visions dance upon the mind
that life can not be this unkind.
Then weakness enters in the soul
as doubt is cast upon belief.

The aching heart begins to bleed
as faith begins to ebb and fail.
While crying then, in deep despair,
the soul begins to feel real thirst.

How sweet to press against the lips
a cup and wet the parched dry tongue!
How sweet to drink when thirst had reigned
and feel as strength returns to limb!

How sweet it'd be to have a cup
that bore a drink that gave relief
When souls have had good cause to weep,
to buoy one's faith in spite of grief!

Does such a cup exist today?
Where might one go to find this cup
to drink the drink that fills the soul
and gives relief to those who thirst?

©James Garner 23 Oct 2007