I've been on a dig
Of personal depths,
Picking as far
As I can get,
I surprisingly stopped
My troweling action,
To ask if I'm digging
In the right direction.
The deeper I go,
The less I know,
The opposite
Of my quest.
I ascend for a look and see,
And the world's
A different place for me.
Did the air down there
Have an effect on me.
I saw an enemy,
But I didn't see her,
At least not til
Much later.
I must've hit the vein below,
While mining the hardness
Of my soul, retrieving the stones
From an emotional hole.
I cut my gems
Beneath a glass,
Carved my present
From my past.
I back-filled my dig,
Got what I needed,
A cache of hindsight
I can live with.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh how these words give many answers. A need to read again and again. Amazing!