While planting summer roses
I came upon a rusted jar of majesty
buried in the earth.
Inside were drumbeat crushed longings
of someone's wishes and wantings.
Whirling questions tumbled from within:
What is it I am meant to unearth?
What is it I have hidden away?
What is it that awakens me in the night
to remind me of who I am?
I exhale silence:
that first impossible word
of one searching for the forgotten.