I have been mining now
for half my life

maybe more

always digging

I excavate
a black seam
in the hope
the yearning hope
what I find
is gold

the deeper I push
with my shovel
and pick
with my hands

the blacker
the darker

the more golden
my findings

I no longer believe
I could stop

I do not believe
I could
find a way
to stop

the black gold
has claimed me
for the days
for the rest
of my life

is no hardship
to me
with my tools in my hand

I am a miner

the deeper I go
the clearer the darkness
until even the mysteries …

I understand them

I shine my light

I’ve been mining
a black seam
a dark seam
for thirty long years
maybe more

every time
I strike
with my pick into the black
I feel hope

a solemn hope
that I might find
will find gold

© Frank Prem, 2017

October 2017 Poem #25: she walks

2 thoughts on “poemminer

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