I drank a cup, and it didn’t quench
I drank the sea, and it didn’t satisfy
And as I lay there, dying in the desert
Clouds began gather, and I wondered
“Could it really get any worse?”
But instead of a storm, soft rain
What sea couldn’t satiate,
Could rain even make a dent?
“Hold out your tongue” came in reply
A drop, for my parched lips
A drop, for my scorched tongue
A drop, for the desert
The desert once called my heart
A single drop of Living Water
Quenched and satisfied
What cup and sea could not