I've been on a dig
Of personal depths,
Picking as far
As I can get,
I surprisingly stopped
My troweling action,
To ask if I'm digging
In the right direction.
The deeper I go,
The less I know,
The opposite
Of my quest.

I ascend for a look and see,
And the world's
Glittering differently.
Did the air down there
Have an effect on me.
I saw an enemy,
But I didn't see her,
At least
Not until much later.
I must've tapped the vein below,
While mining the hardness
Of my soul,
Retrieving stones
From my emotional hole.

I cut my gems
Beneath a glass,
Carved my present
From my past.

I back-filled my dig,
Got what I needed,
A cache of hindsight
I can live with.