A friend, in passing, signed off with the phrase, Be Well. This is what flowed out of my fingers as I read it. Sharing with you now

Be Well, 

She said in parting

A friend, 

who wished me in passing

There I was, being

with all that I could be


deep and cold

and wide and bold

staring at a sky

shaped in my mould

glittering, reflecting


pretending to be whole

when everyone knew

I was just a hole

Filled for sure, 

how else could I be

a well, useful until eternity

Come take of me, and take again

when you take, you do not maim

Pour yourself to me

Pour yourself heart and soul

Your words, your wishes

Whatever is at stake

It is here in my well

Your secrets may dwell

For the well, it does not tell

Be well, she said, 

And I knew she wished me peace

A still life, steady

 the sun above my shoulders

A river at my feet,

The breeze gentle and fleet

Here, I, the well, 

I lay in state, 

Gently, I wait

For my waters, as words may travel far, 

And I, 

I, am always here at the Meet. 

(c) Meeta Sengupta

(c) Meeta Sengupta

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