Buried Within

A thought,
Just a dream,
Like the sprout of a tree,
Struggles to awaken,
Pushing upward,
Against the soil,
Granules, mere pebbles,
Yet to the sprout,
Rocks and boulders,
An impossible task,
Yet there it is.

The idea,
The beauty,
The mystical joy
That lies buried within,

It is felt, it is rejoiced.
It cries, screams to be shared,
Yet here it lies
beneath the ground.

It sees the light above.
So far away,
So far away.

The thought pushes
Struggles
Panics as it longs
To break free, finally.
Basking in the light,
Welcomed by those
That feel its love,
Share its passion,
Know its meaning.

Feels the belonging.

The sprout takes root,
It dreams as it struggles,
Of becoming the tree
Sharing the forest
Adding to its splendor
Becoming one with all.

Yet until then,
It looks upward
At the distant light
Beckoning
Torturing,
Too many rocks
Too many boulders

Will it forever be buried,
Just a thought,
Just a dream?