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Buried Treasure

And so I hear there's a map somewhere
to God.

That this God may be where X marks the spot,
three paces north of a twisted dogwood,
just a stone's roll from the dead tree.

I hear we're all vectors into each other.
If so, help me.
First, let's find that crumpled map.
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Monday, March 11, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: faith,god
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COMMENTS
Chinedu Dike 13 March 2019
Well conceived and nicely brought forth with spiritual insight. Thanks for sharing.
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