When What’s Golden
When what’s golden
Stops finding our pan,
What choices have we?
“Abandon vain quest.
Pretend we must rest.”
Flee fate’s indifference
By embracing quite starkly
Our sullen self.
When what’s golden
Obeys not its plan,
What voice do we hear?
“Close up the mine.
Pretend to be fine.”
Forego vain resistance
By putting past trophies
Away, on the shelf.
When what’s golden
Becomes also-ran,
Is there multiple-choice?
“Seek not the lode.
Stop prospecting.”
Halt all persistence
By pretending not to hear,
By channeling the deaf.
When what’s golden
Seems not something one can,
Argue back, rejoice.
“Marshall your anger.
Dig deep for the amber.”
Hear the insistence,
It is there, it is clear.
There’s no choice but thyself.
