The Miner.

He dipped his pan into the stream

Hoping for a glimpse of gold

And swirled the water through the sand

To see what wealth he could unfold.

Many times he swirled that sand,

Many times he dipped and sluiced,

Many times his eyes beheld

The water swirl and the sand reduce

And as he in patient diligence worked

He found things to please him well enough-

Coloured rock, crystal or amethyst,

Stones flat and smooth or jagged and rough.

Others panned and some found wealth

But at last he came to see

The gold as merely the by-product-

The real wealth was the creativity

And in bending to the stream to work

He realised that he too played a part,

In sand and stone and search for gold

In speaking of the human heart.

And if all he ever pans is sand

He has dwelt by the riverside,

Dipped his pan into the stream

And searched for where truth can reside.