Keep Digging
From whom and where comes
this new and strange imperative
asking me to dig deep down
into the ground beneath?
It seems I have no choice,
so I shrug and begin shoveling.
Minutes turn into hours,
the hours into days,
and now it appears the sun
slowly sinks in the sky.
I'm tired but more thirsty,
desperate to uncover meaning,
or something solid like the rock
at the foundation of my being.
What happens when I find that gold
at the center of my existence?
Will I be then able to return
and offer persuasive testament
to all my fellow grave diggers
unaware they're carrying shovels?
“Look within.
Within is the fountain of good,
and it will ever bubble up,
if thou wilt ever dig.”
This poem was originally shared as part of Brian’s Daily Poems on August 23, 2020.
©Brian Mueller - All rights reserved.
