He felt driven.

Driven to find the pot of gold.

It was the only goal he held.

He followed the road that seemed most certain

To lead him to the

Bullion.

Years passed.

Some quickly, some endlessly.

He encountered places

And people

And experiences

He would never have

Sought.

Finally

He found

The

Gold.

It was very

Bright

In countenance.

Solid

In form.

Profoundly

Valuable

But

Not as precious

As the people

He’d met on the

Way.

Not as

Treasured

As the knowledge

It took to attain

The costly object.

Not as

Priceless

As the journey.

© 2004, Darlene Bridge Lofgren