Excavations,
by Odin Roark

As children,
Parents give us spoons,
A bucket,
The beach,
Some sand,
So innocent we.

As teens,
Teachers give us daring,
Probe a bit deeper,
Find what excites us,
What turns a trick in our brains,
So anxious we.

Adulthood comes,
Few give us anything,
Work,
Earn,
Maybe the dig will reveal,
Buried treasures of gene pools,
Finding where fate resides,
So insistent we.

Aging arrives,
We’ve earned our rights,
We’ve excavated all we have,
Found the unexpected,
Cherished the surprises,
Wandered back to the beach,
So acceptant we.

Spoon,
Bucket,
Sand,
Beginnings of the end,
So pre-destined we.

How extraordinary this gradual excavation,
This life’s venture to uncover.