Buried Treasure
When the wind stops blowing, I quickly forget
That underneath this dirt once lay a treasure.
I remember my former thoughts, thinking it
Always worth all this digging.
No wonder I spent so much time
Here remaining at this site
Lifting my shovel over and over.
I wish the light was brighter
Then maybe I could have seen
That with every move of my shovel
I was only dumping
More dirt on the treasures that was already uncovered.
Maybe then I would have realized
That my thoughts of wind were simply
The result of myself and
The many exhales of my feelings
Of frustration and realization
That this treasure hunt has now become
An underground tunnel with no direction or destination.
Where is the one
who lifts the head of those who are buried deep in desperation?
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