Rain from a Stranger

I came to your well when I thirsted
And my throat was so barren and dry,
I came when my spirit was emptied,
And each tear spilled out with a sigh.

You held a cup of clear water
And offered me sips from the rain,
I swallowed the coolness of Heaven,
And found that it quenched all my pain.

You bade, "Come drink living water…"
Your offer was not made in vain,
I came back to taste the clean water,
And it poured o'er my head and my shame.

Oh, I am just a poor pilgrim!
I tarry 'long roads of such strife…
But I've sipped rain from a stranger,
Sweet drops that I'll crave all my life!

Sharon Frye