My hope is supplied
From an unending source
That flows without ceasing
Though I sometimes
Forget and unhook the hose
And cry out when it’s me
Who disconnected the line
Feeding me what I need
And in hunger for what
I know I need, I panic
And shake with fear
Thinking I’ve lost
My way, my supply
But the real truth always
Comes back around when
I take a moment to stop
And to breathe
And I see that the hose
The connection to my supply
Has always been ready,
Right there in my hand
Waiting to plug
Right back into
My unending supply


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