Pan for gold

I cleared my head and now my breaths
were crisp like mountain air.
The lakes, the trees, I start to dream,
and let it take me there.

I pushed myself to greater heights,
the river was my guide;
meandered to infinity,
but always by my side.

The icy-cool was welcome and
though thirst had taken hold,
a shiny silt washed round my mouth;
cupped in my hands was gold!

As quick as was discovery,
the treasure vanished fast.
But beauty had entranced my soul;
that glimmer of the past.

For years I panned through worthless silt,
but as my nights grew cold,
the beauty rose from riverbed,
and now I’m panning gold.

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