The secret elixir,
abundant in the lake of grace —
deep as its reflection of the sky —
pure as tears,
will quench your thirst from inside,
provide the satisfaction
you wished you could believe in,
all those parched and lonely years
when you wandered amid the fake fountains
(cellophane streams you couldn’t even
put your hand in)

It is here behind the wall,
dark as wet concrete,
cool as echoes from the heart of caves,
warm as hope, as promises fulfilled —
When you drink of it,
you’ll never thirst or doubt again.

©Wendy Mulhern
February 19, 2016