Excavation Poem by Sonny Rainshine

Brackish water does not reflect the sunlight,
you used to say, concerning my muddled
way of airing my grievances, my puddled
train of thought.

Ah, but if light is not deterred,
it penetrates. Look closely underneath
the stern and somber finish of my face
and find there all shining things,

things captured underneath the pain
like veins of silver encrusted in rock.
If anyone can chip away the chaff,
it would be you.

Excavate then the secret brightness,
and purify the stagnant waters
so that the silver stream
flows unrestrained.