The Mysterious Joys of Living Waters

My Creative Process class included an assignment to create something during 35 consecutive days. It was called the Mudball Project. Today concludes that endeavor.  Many years have past since I wrote poems on a regular basis--I was in my 20's when I did so (I'm now 70).  My project was to write a short poem each day and post it on this blog. I hope you found them interesting.

The Mysterious Joys of Living Waters 

When I think of wells of living waters
I see either the artesian well my father
Would show us off the roadside near our small hometown...
Near the flowing well little black and white speckled minnows
Swam within clear, cool pungent waters;
The other image I see is the hand pump
Uncle Calhoun had on his farm outside Jacksonville
As a kid it was a mystery to me how water moved
In rivers below ground;
Last week I had a hand pump installed in my yard
The mysterious joys of living waters remain. 

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