Peace at the bottom of a wordless well

I threw down a bucket with a rope

down my well of whimsical words

I expected it to fill up quickly

but no tug did I feel 

Oh what horror, my pen shouted

when the bucket was empty

my bright, empty sheet looked at me

ashamed of its nakedness

I climbed down the well, myself

felt the darkness cover my soul

The dry bottom felt eerily comfortable

Like a place I could learn to love

Just as I made peace with silence - 

as if quietness was my dreary destiny

the heavens opened up with rain

Pitter-patter raindrops tickling dry sand:

my buried words started to smile.

Author's Note

Image: Just a drop, by Sollymay Hogsby, Pinterest.