Dan Cwiak Poet Couplet

My Buried Soul

When I began college I did not know
 where it would take me or where I would go.

I happened to choose an anthropology course
 trying to see the different sides of humanity's source.

Social, Cultural, and Physical Anthropology
 could hold no candle to the rapture of Archeology. 

When you've been digging in the ground and know
 others were standing in that spot thousands of years ago.

Then as you shave a layer of dirt so thin
 finding an arrowhead, spear point, or just a bead to begin.

Oh, the thrill of seeing that small piece of the past
 makes one introspective of how long things can last.

It was a blessing and a curse I will sometimes mull
 the day that I cut through the top of someone's buried skull.

An unknown being thousands of years from the past
 had by my handiwork been uncovered at last.

A person who had lived in a different period and age
 whose knowledge I sought so to make men more sage. 

It was still in the ground where it had been since death
 having not seen light again or able to take a breath.
 
Things in my life never seemed right after that time
 until the curse and blessing could combine in this rhyme.

For my penance of bringing that poor soul to light
 it was predestined that my calling would be to write.

It was not fear or courage that brought me then
 but the ethereal hand of an ancient soul that brought me the pen.

Why was I chosen to write of this now
 having no knowledge of the why or how?

These are questions I have asked myself many times
 when I hear the wind softly speaking to me in its chimes.

I only know that it was something I must do
 to try to soothe my soul by relating this all to you.

Still, I do not know if it is the balm
 that will heal my soul and let it be calm.

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Robert Lindley October 3, 2015 at 2:25 PM I ONCE LONGED TO BE AN ARCHEOLOGIST! I collected over 300 arrowheads, spearheads and other stone tool fragments from the field behind our house on the farm. Sad, my mother threw all away when dad died and we moved into town. I remember the thrill looking after each big rain! A7, A joy to read.. Dan Cwiak October 3, 2015 at 6:27 PM If you lived on a farm, the first 3 ft. down were disturbed by the tilling of the soil. What an archeologist want to find are areas that are undisturbed so that he can get an idea of what was going on at the site. My find was about 6 ft. down, oriented to the south, and was not considered a burial, because no bones were found.

CayCay Godwin September 30, 2015 at 9:15 PM There is no reason for recrimination: a. his soul was no longer there, and b. by your hand his body may have received more attention than ever. If you were meant to seek yourself through that event, then you were meant to - and you have. It is what is was and what is was isn't something bad, but profound. God uses profound. You should only reproach yourself if you had blown the event off and walked away without thought. You wrote an absolutely beautiful poem about it ... CayCay Dan Cwiak October 1, 2015 at 9:30 AM Thanks for your words, CayCay. It is not recrimination, as I do not like the Mummy's Ghost is chasing me or anything like that. However so much changed in my life that year and after. Many were for the good, such as getting to share with others the writings that I have done. I know God has a plan...

Michael Tor September 30, 2015 at 5:03 PM Dan thanks for sharing. I can hardly imagine finding that skull. The realization of the past must have been an awesome feeling for you. Dan Cwiak September 30, 2015 at 8:31 PM It's not so much the realization of the past, but how the past has shaped all our lives. I have never had the same life afterward, and did not even stay in the Field of Archeology, but I can never forget that moment. Perhaps, it was the reason I have kept it hidden for so long.

Robert Heemstra September 30, 2015 at 3:48 PM Well done indeed! I can truly relate to the story your poem tells. Dan Cwiak September 30, 2015 at 8:19 PM Thanks, Robert. I never really expected to be writing about it, but some things you just have buried and never know when they will surface, just like that skull.

Sara Kendrick September 30, 2015 at 3:36 PM That is an interesting topic..Enjoyed reading your story in poetic form..Thanks for the visit to my page..This was well written..Sara Dan Cwiak September 30, 2015 at 8:17 PM Thanks, Sara. I enjoy your work.