“To Drown in Jacob’s Well”
My death came seven years ago, I tell.
He pushed me down the hollow of a well
To drop down depths of darkness straight to hell,
To splash against the waters where I fell.
To drown, to breathe in liquid far from air,
A fate no normal man should ever bare,
Became my fate and shook me with despair:
A place where souls can’t even shout in prayer.
Cold eyes had shut in never ending gloom.
Well’s bottom would become my somber tomb
Had there not been a man there to exhume
My corpse from sure and everlasting doom.
From where he had appeared I could not say,
But time would tell me there he did oft stay
To rescue victims who had gone astray,
To show them once again the light of day.
The well I do regard a holy place
Where sinners find a pouring forth of grace,
Where lovers gaze upon a gentle face,
And outstretched arms await a warm embrace.
It’s my pleasure to share this poetry with you. It comes from my heart.
David J.W. Inczauskis, S.J.
*My first shot at iambic pentameter
Artwork Above: Sieger Köder’s “Die Frau am Jakobsbrunnen”