While reflecting a lot recently on the life of an ancient prophet named Elijah, I found I could identify with him closely – a nearly-impossible success finally achieved…but coming down off the “high” to find an exhausted body and soul in a desert (of sorts). 

After reading Psalm 9:9-10 and chewing more on the aforementioned thoughts, I crafted the following short poem. If you or someone you care about is going through a trying or dry time right now, I hope the words might bring some comfort to your heart, and that you might find (or rediscover) the water that will truly fill you up again.

See how a river, mighty once, now runs: a fragile stream instead,

Enough to feed a single tree — to shade my drooping, sun-brunt head,

Inviting, careless: death, sleep, end — this sandy shelf becomes a bed.

Now comes a hand to pierce my dreams, a voice to rouse my weary soul,

Coals near my face releasing smoke, burned for the bread to make me whole, 

And water sweet to quench this thirst, to make both gut and spirit full.