My Glass




I wrote this during a particularly difficult time. Perhaps it will help someone else.

My Glass

Crawling through the desert,
Surrounded by sand.
The sun beats relentless
Thirst my body's demand.

Half full or half empty?
I'm not sure anymore. 
Sometimes I feel nothing
Other times it's a roar. 

I feel all alone
Yet push away those who try.
Striking out in anger  
And setting markers too high. 

My glass isn't just empty
It cracked and then shattered
What I knew now seems gone 
Like it never even mattered. 

My mind is now whirling 
In what can I trust? 
My foundations feel shaky
Like I'll crumble to dust.

But somewhere inside
My tiny faith still hides.
In a corner where I buried it 
The only sure guides. 

As I crawl to the edge
Of His promised well
I don't have a cup,
I'm embarrassed to tell.

He smiles gently 
And simply says drink
He uses his dipper 
And fills to my brink. 

He touches my brokenness
He smoothes out each shard
Each tiny edge softened 
This process so hard.

He cuts through the darkness
Through the voices in my head
His mercy and grace 
Offer healing instead. 

It turns out I had it wrong
It's not half empty or full
It's the source of the water
Who truly makes me whole. 

By Natalie Potter

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