The Search Poem by David Taylor

How we strive each day,
strive in each and every part we play
and seek and search to make our way,
with our cherished desires of heart
that every morning make us start.

Down and up a winding path,
often long, steep and misty, dark;
but did we not see
nearby as we walk,
(or even crawl) ,
the flowers that shine
and the birds that sing,
flying high on wing?

And did we not find
that under our tired and aching feet
the moss sparkled with the dew
always springing up anew?
And as we looked up
that same vaulted sky was found aloft,
to brighten those weary days
that we thought were lost.

And when we saw
the snow capped hill
rising above the forest
(and the fields) ,
did we wonder
if we should go round;
rather than climbing the higher ground,
and stay on that path
that winds on and on and goes around
and finally comes back
to one more place that's just as black
and not what we had thought we'd find,
(so similar to what we had left behind?)

Until at last we knew
the snow capped hill,
the flowers, the birds,
the mossy dew,
even the winding path that's dark
were all that we had truly sought
not what we thought (at the start)
and we had cherished in our heart.