I came across this moving poem by Margaret Avison today.
In the steeped evening
deer stand, not yet
beyond the rim of here;
and crystal blur
clears to the jet
stream, pure, onflowing:
a not yet known —
beyond the grasses where the deer
stand, deep in evening
I read this and re-read it a few more times and my heart settled into a little pep talk.
Christie, are you that deer?
Are you not yet drinking from an onflowing stream of water?
Is it easier to just pretend you’re not thirsty?
And it seemed so clear that I (maybe you too?) have access to streams of living water (John 4) but I stand still.
I don’t dunk my head in it, gulp it down, soothe my parched throat and weary soul.
So what do you say dear ones, shall we take a drink?