Now and then
officiating
at someone's final performance
last silent bow
on life's revolving stage 

I face the task to make
a summary of someone's

days and nights
lights and shadows 

Its a bit like Yukon and Andamooka
all together
washing silt for gold
digging sand for opals
you somethimes shift
an awful lot of mud
for a single ounce of gold
shovel tons of gravel
for a black speck of lustre 

But such is the quest
a glint in the silt
makes you forget
all labour

and the weariness
of endless slogging

One nugget
turns quivering muscles
into a prancing dance
of unadulterated joy 

To find the gem
of humanity in man
and forget the rest 

I'll pick my shovel
again and again
there is gold
in every canyon 

I must not give up

shoveling the dirt