SEARCHING FOR THE MOTHER LODE

You’re on the road
and searching for that vein
known as the Mother Lode. . .

And, if its hid vicinity you find,
and the gold has not yet all been mined,

a freezing river
you must enter
with a sloping pan
and try your luck as best you can.

That done,
go on,
as you will,
if you must, descend or climb a hill.

And, if toward that effort,
yourself too much you have to goad,
then chance an easy stride across the open plain
and seek whatever ventures
THAT shall hold.

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This entry was posted in Medium Length Poems, Poetry and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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