The Well

I had the most interesting experience not fifteen minutes ago.  I was about to go to sleep, but I turned on a recording that I made of our band tonight to kind of lull me to sleep and quiet my mind.  As the soloist began to sing, it was almost as if I heard words which I knew where not our version of the song.  Instead, I heard the first verse of the next poem.  The rest of it came easily as I continued to sing the song to myself.

Now come ye to

The well and rest

It floweth free,

For you and me.

Come to the well,

And ye shall find,

The Master's touch,

Of sweetest kind.

His yoke is light;

He lendeth strength,

To carry on,

My anxious son.

Now let Him hold,

Your load of pain,

And ye shall rest,

From dark, cold rain.

You need to rest;

Find healing here.

Come, stay here long,

Where pain is gone.

Here at the well,

Where all are found,

And angels sing,

A heav'nly sound.

Come to the well,

Taste of His love,

It floweth free,

For you and me.

Come to the well,

Ye there shall find,

The Master's love...

Of sweetest kind.

June 30th, 2016