Long he worked in golden fields
while gems bloomed beside the fences,
and in his sweat, he dreamed of hidden treasure:
Ancient secrets, sacred writings,
silver fountains, long since silent.
Just the thought of his ambition brought him pleasure.
But the sun each year was hot; rain was scarce; the tractor faltered; prices tumbled every time the yield was rich.
There was just enough to raise the kids, enough to pay the taxes,
So his left his dreams of treasure in the ditch.
Now he sits and quietly listens to the memories of their laughter--
as his children come, concerned, to hover around him.
And he never roamed the world,
never dove for a single pearl,
never panned a stream...
but somehow treasure found him.
