Poetry · Uncategorized

Colors In The Well

I found myself at the bottom of a well.

Dark, dirty, cold, afraid.

I found myself crawling on my hands and knees, searching for a way out.

Clawing at the stone walls, begging for freedom with every broken nail.

Alone and afraid of where I had fallen to.

But one day, a beam of light poured in.

A light so bright, so warm.

Wrapping me in comfort and drawing colors on my skin.

My time in the well had been gray until the sunlight came.

A hand reached down and pulled me from the well.

I had to clasp onto that hand with every bit of strength I could muster.

Each breath burning holes into my lungs.

My body was suddenly awakened, feeling every ounce of pain that had numbed in the darkness.

But the hand that pulled me out was stronger than I was.

As I emerged over the edge of the well, I was wrapped in love’s arms.

Everything that had pulled me to the bottom of the well was suddenly gone.

I was new.

I was alive.

Breathing in and out, in and out.

For the first time I felt sure of myself.

I won’t fall.

Love has a hold of me.

This small poem represents the experience of God’s love that rescued me from a time of emptiness in my life. He reached down to me, when I was at my lowest and brought me to life again. He whispered His love into my heart. I’ve never been the same. I hope it will inspire you reader.

much love,





5 thoughts on “Colors In The Well

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