Through this barren land I wander,
Down the hills of yonder I fall,
Skies wide hiding treasure
Cast shadows toward the open,
Cleansing my heart
With power to revive.
Toeing the line of shores of peace and waters of treasure,
My mission tall threatens to fall;
These fields hold the spirit of wander
That threatens to burst open
And fuel my thirst to release and revive
The art of this world; my very own heart.
Down to the shores I tumble; waves lap my face to revive,
And on I take and plow my vessel measured, on a quest for this richest treasure.
Is this goal to bless my heart,
Or is it for others that I wander,
Launch my life into peril, leave my ambitions in the open?
As I stroke this mighty craft through earth’s silk blue heart,
Air whistling on my face, sun spreading down to revive,
This calm flushes out worry of others who wander;
My quest is wide open.
What is it, after all, that made me fall
Into dreams of pleasure and finding treasure?
It could have been ceaseless wonder shoving me on to wander;
The place I left has no gleaming gold to revive,
The skies no wide blue heart,
The grounds no fertile soil to shatter and break open
And pull out life-transforming treasure;
Jewels to squash the sorrow of sin and remedy the Fall.
Is this inclination of transfiguration; hunger for transformation, a useless way to wander?
How can I, a chest myself to search and find, try to patch my blemished heart
With nothing but world-laden treasure?
I am but a figment, prone to falter and flat-out fall,
But how can we find new lands to explore, new worlds to open
If we don’t seize the chance to set out and revive?
When I dig up this divine treasure, the fruit of my endeavor,
I’ll leave it open to stuff the hearts of those helpless victims of the Fall,
Those whose beauty it will enliven; those whose wandering wonder it will revive.
Copyright © Davis Smith | Year Posted 2018