Digging.

Just Digging

With nothing but my hands.

Trying to find that buried treasure inside me.

Deep.

All I need is that shovel.

I dig through the never-ending hole of life,

With nothing but my hands.

I dig through conflicts; bad choices; good friendships;

bad friendships' but make no dent.

Hands.

Beautiful hands.

Hands that give me the shovel.

Hands that vanish.

Ignorant.

Curious.

Helpless. 

The shovel unused in my hands.

I need someone.

A teacher.

A being.

Strong.

Wise.

To direct my hands,

And teach me to use the shovel.

Calm

Solitude.

Deep within my own thoughts.

Searching.

Sitting,

Hands folded, eyes closed.

She doesn't see me but I know

She knows  I'm there.

Waiting.

Just for me.

Nobody else.

My soul friend.

Also an expert gardener,

She teaches me how to use the shovel.

And once I start digging with that shovel,

I will be forever digging that

Beautiful

By Rising Stars participant