I Thirst

I am the woman at Jacob’s well.
Filled am I with water of the world;
Yet my soul yearns still for something more.

Inside myself there is an empty niche.
The heat my sin creates lies heavy in the air;
No earthly good can quench my thirst.

My lips, my heart are parched.
Refresh, soothe my soul with water-
Yes, this I need.

No one can see sin which clings to me.
Here by the well is a man not like me-
The One, who thirsts, sees souls, like me.

With open loving arms, his priestly heart
Turns eagerly my way-
To give His saving grace which I have lost.

His grace, so necessary for living water
To flow inside my devilish torso, to any one
Who listens attentively, who drinks the water which He gives.

“Do you want your soul restored; filled
With bottomless water of my merciful heart?”
“Yes, my empty jar is yours to fill.”

Each morning now we have a prayerful encounter.
“I thirst,” says He. I humbly reply,
“Here am I, I come to do your will.”