Gonna dig up the hurt,

Gonna fling aside the hard dirt.

Gonna find my truth under the layers

Of mud,

Gonna reclaim myself from the piles 

Of crud.

Here we go, here we go, here we go…

Setting out with a whistle in
My breath,

Trusty pick and shovel in hand,

Just as dawn is just breaking out

Over the hills of my heart.

Hopeful pinks and streaks of red

Spread their wings wide

All across the skies of my mind.

Determination is fast at my side.

Gonna dig up the hurt,

Gonna fling aside the hard dirt.

Gonna find my truth under the layers

Of mud,

Gonna reclaim myself from the piles 

Of crud.

Here we go, here we go, here we go…

I put my back to the work,

Enthusiasm in my wake.

Not so bad, I think, as soil sprays the

Air around me.

Not when it’s for mental health’s sake.

What’s so tough about retrieving me?

I wonder as the sweet sun gently bathes me.

But, soon-far too soon-the rays are high overhead.

My arms begin to ache,

My shoulders to make

Protests

As the layers continue to turn up.

Didn’t know I was in so deep, I begin to

Whisper to myself,

Foreboding tapping at my fearful soul.

As the trench yawns large beneath

My increasingly unsteady feet

With nary a sighting of my prize,

I begin to wonder with a shake in

My tone,

Maybe, maybe, it is just too hard.

Maybe, maybe, I am just too far down…

Maybe, maybe I will never be found…

So, I sink to the mucky ground

Right where I am.

Shovel drops from my hand.

It’s no use, it’s no use, it’s no use…

I’ve wearied my soul.

Goodbye to the goal.

Failure rises up

And sucks me in…

I don’t even fight the inevitable

Dirt nap to come.

Ready to lay me down for good,

I figure, without the battle won.

When, out of the deep, 

A tiny voice beckons me,

Thin at first,

But growing strength.

Don’t stop. Almost there. Don’t stop. I’m here.

At first, it startles me. 

For a moment, I doubt its existence.

My tired body wants to stay

Laying in the mud,

Letting the sun go past the slopes

On its way home.

Yet the voice continues,

Pressing against my resistance.

Don’t stop. Pick yourself up.  Don’t stop. Find me.

I’m here…

Finally, finally, I begrudgingly begin to rise,

Ick flecks my cheeks,

And I am sure my clothing reeks.

But, I try not to care as I cast a look about

And find to my surprise

Sun is still up despite 

What felt like a thousand wasted years

Time remains in spite of all my fears,

Ready to guide me still…

I hesitate.

Hard to believe it’s really not too late.

Then something surges inside and says:

I  know it’s not easy, but I am worth the effort to find…

So…I heft my shovel once more

And continue to scoop up earth

And let it fly,

With perhaps even more vigor but 

Further understanding at my side…

Gonna dig up the hurt,

Gonna fling aside the hard dirt.

Gonna find my truth under the layers

Of mud,

Gonna reclaim myself from the piles 

Of crud.

Here we go, here we go, here we go…

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