Well-Water

Isaiah 12:3 With joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation.


How can i keep you from swallowing sandpaper
Like dry throats were in style?
I've folded too many fullhouses
To think it's all bad luck
Maybe we're just playing it wrong
Maybe the river's arms just
want to be held back
take a seat in that buckeled wooden bucket
it's time to for us to find out if all's well
In this well
that end's well.
and you'll hold the rope
and i'll let you go, real slow
tug once if you miss me
tug twice if it get's to deep
and you still haven't struck water.
We're gonna find something that's worth it.

So what’s your worth, holy one?
Where's all that life you've been livin' for?
Where's all that gold you been digging for?
Because underneath those empty bones and crooked toes is
just dry dirt and cotton rows
Squint past those big clouds
Look behind those sun rays
That split the sky like telephone lines

I found your treasure
But it ain’t buried underneath your back yard no more
It’s runnin past your chapped lips
It’s drippin off your finger tips
like Beethoven
come back to me
It’s getting too dark outside
And those halogen lamps won’t last forever
Let’s go for a swim in some pond
Passed the city limits signs
No, I don’t want too see your boobies
I just want to be understood
I think we all need to walk naked
and take a peek at how beautiful we are
I think a skinny dip
is sometimes
exactly
what the doctor ordered
because sad songs
and smoky bars
don't birth nothing but bad poetry

so strap on your spring time shoes
Let's turn our broken homes to snow cones, baby
I lost my calender last christmas
woke up choking on daisies
But i ain't dead yet
I'm just enjoying the view.
Lay next to me
Let the only blades that dance on your wrist
Be from the ground up this time
let the bees dance on our tongues
Let them do all the talking
I got more than the lions share
Of stories to bare like stillborns
But we’re still alive
We’re still kickin
This life ain’t no picnic
But don’t give it a chance to bury you
The treasure ain’t down there baby
The treasure ain’t down there baby
The treasure ain’t down there baby
Keep your chin up
And your dancing hat on
And your rusty water pale
Waiting for the first sign of rain.
Cause it’s coming like a slow train
It’s blowing like an ocean breeze
And I got an empty shotgun seat
We can roll the windows down
Play hide and seek with the highway
So sit down
Shut up
And hold on tight.

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My name is Ryan Hildebrand. I like this blog, and this blog's author. She asked me to write something about joy. I don't write about joy that often so I got pretty excited.