Come,
Take a rest.
You’ve been a juggler all your life.
Isn’t it time to let your thoughts fall?
Chains can never last forever,
But buried treasures sometimes do.
Sometimes I feel like I’m sitting
At the bottom of an ocean
Chained and shackled
Yet somehow I’m not drowning.
There is a buried chest
Within my chest,
And it contains a heavy cloak of sadness.
In there is a dancing clown too,
A demon,
And an angel,
A gentle scented breeze,
And a giant tree whose leaves of love are always falling.
God is in there too,
And so are you.
Buried Treasure
Published
Zakaria Amara 