Finding the Land

What is gold
but a stupid metal
hid hard in the ground?

So what
that it is soft
and lends its shine
to rings of wed.

So what
of its generous smiles,

so many lived
in noting more but cans
and tents
to find it,

and still more
never did
in so much less.

So many pursuits of wealth
told so may years before the pursuer
even half way got done

So many
end so much the same.

Half done
but long lived thinking more would just come.

Alone,

but we, the true believers
do not let down.

We hope on
despite all the bad
repeat, repeat

repeat.

Chances true,
     chances false,
still at hand
same before as everyday.

And our best gets the best of us
and we see potential.

Potential never ending,
and more seldom arriving.