The time comes when the
shovel finds the firm grip of man.
The Shovel Man.

With a loose grasp he falls.
With a firm grip he digs,
through green grasses,
seedlings and sproutlings.

To quickly dig dirt,
more dirt than can be dug.
Devastated, the man fills his hole.

Eventually seedlings sprout.
The Devil whispers of the false
beauty of the flower.

He attempts, again, to dig deep,
beyond dirt and mud.
He tears through the flowers
and their bed to find the gold
beneath the pillow.

The shovel greets the stone.
The man curses it.
Rock bottom.

He fills the hole yet again.
In time the hole fills his whole
hole and he attempts to dig
ever deeper.

He digs, he hammers,
ever deeper.
ever deeper.

Eventually he hammered
through stone, he hammered
through self,
ever deeper,
ever deeper.
ever deeper.

In a last and loosened grip
he hammered through and
found