I often forget
The depth of the well
And its capacity to hold
The fluidity of feelings
No matter their origin-
Until one sentiment
Rises to the top
Threatening a flood
Before slowly floating
Down, down, down
Once again resting
At the bottom of the well-
What would happen
If the tide was not
Contained
Allowed to spill over
Soaking its surroundings
With grief, joy, sadness, peace…
Perhaps next time
I feel a catch
In my throat
I’ll let all of the tears fall
Then search for my reflection
Along with those of the
Blue sky and green leaves
In the puddle that forms
Beside the tree
Where I choose to rest
Piano Girl 
Beautiful. I felt this as I read it. 💜
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Thank you, Carrie. ☺️ Looking forward to writing with you soon.
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if only we could spill them all and have it done with! So beautiful!
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Thank you, Mary. ❤️
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Kelley, your words always touch my heart and soul. Wellspring—how beautiful. I FEEL this. Much love and prayers, my friend. 💛🙏
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Thank you, sweet friend. 💛
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You’re welcome, Kelley. Enjoy your weekend—I’ll be thinking of you (and of course, on Sunday morning first thing 💛).
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