Watering Hole

The song Watering Hole on Missy Higgins’ album the ol’ razzle dazzle has had me thinking over the last few days. The image of a watering hole is a simple enough one to conjure up, but a watering hole in my head, well that takes a little more thought.

A watering hole, an oasis in the wilderness, a place to quench your thirst, rest in the shade, find shelter and refreshment. If dependent on sporadic rainfall, in good times the water is plentiful, a resource for many, but in bad times the water recedes until the ground is parched and cracks appear. Where there is a constant source feeding a waterhole, incredible pools of water can be found in the most unlikely desert places. You only need visit Uluru to see the wonder such an underground source can bring, and tapping into that life giving source on a spiritual or emotional level is just as crucial for survival and growth.

The watering hole in my head is not a void, it’s actually a source of great nourishment and rich with resources. Will I take the time to sit by its edge, draw from its depths what I need, or will I gaze into it as if into a deep well, and it can be pretty dark down there, and fear what might be brought to the surface. Self doubt, fear, criticism, apathy, whatever it is can all suck the life out of us and leave us parched. Led me into some waterhole thoughts of my own.

Respite from the scorching heat

A place to dabble weary feet

In waters cool and calm.

The shade of sturdy eucalypt

Protecting from the rays

Dappled on the surface

Through the gum’s outstretched limbs.

Drink it all in

In the daylight hours

Quench the craving thirst

And feel the restless spirit

Quietly come to rest.

Lay down by the water’s edge

As the sun sinks slowly down

See if sleep will come

For the noises of the night

Travel far.

Those who hide out

Through the day

Venture out at night

And come to take their fill

Just a stone’s throw from your feet

Dark shadows scraping on the ground

Furtive glances all around

Waiting for the enemy to strike.

Slither back, lean on the tree

Draw your knees up to your chest

Feel the pounding of your heart

As you search the water’s edge

And will the sun

To rise up from the east.

Sleep comes but oh so fleeting

Filled with images

Of dread and fright

But as the dawn sheds light

A morning breeze stirs gently

On the surface of the water

And the eucalypt whispers out a sigh.

All is calm

All is right.