What lies below

Flowers adorn this old well
Worn by age and circumstance
Weathered and forgotten
I watch your simplicity
As I wash these dishes,
Beyond the window my nature display
And I know below
The hard fading paint
The gifts you bring forth
With a simple push and pull
The workings plumb the depths
Of the cavernous world
Where water lays.
Yet here I rely on the easy
A pretty handle to bring forth
Making colored bubbles from soap
As the sunlight pours in
And I go about my task
Lost in reveries
Of all that lies below
From thoughts to dreams
Wishes and needs
As the water runs through my fingers
And the gentle flowers blow
In the quiet whisper of wind
And the old pump just waits
To be used once more.