The Traveller’s Quench

Why some people can’t meet your depth, and others are born for it.

You are the well that runneth,
Spilling into overflow
From every pore of your tender soul.

Drawn to your fountain,
Three travellers make their way through:
Surface, Mid, and Deep Root.

Surface wanted only a taste.
For more would have had them braced for escape.

Mid was of thirst and needed a cup.
For more would have had them all welled up.

Deep Root was unlike the rest of the pool,
Parched and longing to be swallowed in full.

To stay firmly rooted,
And be one less a traveller.

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A reflection on what it means to hold depth in a world that often drinks in sips.

In each of us lives a rich complexity.

This is where our vulnerabilities, fears, love, and passions harbour. A summation of a soul embodied.

Some of us regulate the well. Others are an overflow of it.

And in that overflow, it is natural that it will stir up different reactions in different people.

It might make some curious, yet also scared by its honesty. It might make others lean in, wanting a taste of its self-possession, yet unable to hold it with care. And when it becomes too much for them, they may fall back, retreating to their familiar.

Then there are those who are simply in awe of it.
They want to stand with it.

To swim with it.
To give to it.
To feed it.

The key is to recognize that none of these interactions is indicative of our worth.

They merely reflect the capacity of how far each person can travel into our depths.

We are not meant to shrink and shrivel, nor are we meant to overflow for those who cannot stay.

The relationships to feed are the ones that feed us, too.

They are the ones who run toward our current.
The ones who honour our power.

They are not afraid of our depth.
Instead, they choose to merge with it.