When I Let The Bucket Down

by | Articles, Poetry

When I let the bucket downWhen I Let The Bucket Down
Far into my heart
To draw words of life
That could anoint your skin
An adorn your hair
With the sweet, exotic fragrance
And sun-kissed rivulets
Of love and praise
Befitting one so pure
In wonder and moral beauty

I wept

For I found
That my bucket had a hole
And the Gift
That I  had worked so hard
To draw
Had trickled out
On it’s journey back
To the top

Oh, I have traveled so far
To find this well
So that I might draw for you
A gift to grace your soul
Twenty years
You deserve more
Than a holy bucket
I regret
That it’s all I have
To give

Will you hold it please?
Will you take
My token of affection
My love?
It isn’t much
This worn out thing
Yet perhaps we might find
Someone here
Who can mend

Yes! A Mender of Buckets!
For I’ve heard of a Man
A Traveler like us
Who tends to frequent wells
And is very good with old buckets
Should He agree to mend my bucket
Then perhaps, Yes then
We might draw together!

And let the bucket down
Far into my heart
To draw words
Fresh, clear words of life
That anoint your skin
An adorn your hair
With the sweet, exotic fragrance
And sun-kissed rivulets
Of love and praise
Befitting one so pure
In spirit and moral beauty

Mac
August 4, 2010

This poem originally appeared in The Diary Of An Arts Farmer, an online blog exploring the intersection of life, faith, art and community. Photo credit: Thank you to echiner1 of Valencia, Spain for his artistry in the photo “Well.”

Creative Commons License “When I Let The Bucket Down” by Robert “Mac” MacKenzie is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License