Treasure is not found in chests of old
buried beneath the ground, marked.
The prize is not gem or gold
but in the journey embarked.
For all that's physical will grow cold
without that living spark.
Remove the gaudy blindfold
make your own footmarks.
The pearls of this world are not found
they are born of tribulation.
A king can be uncrowned
but a nacre master will avoid damnation.
Even while some are bound
they build their rosary without cessation.
For riches lay waiting all around
they need only gestation.
YOU ARE READING
Sitting Here Thinking (2020-2022)
PoetryPoetry of varying subjects and construction, the second of three. Written while sitting anywhere, lost in thought about everything and anything. Accolades: #1 Thought Provoking 2/26/2020 #1 Self-Reflection 3/22/2020 #1 Creative Writing 7/24/2020 #3...
