Simple, so obvious,
Yet often overlook.....what is really sought,
Often in ways self destructive,
As if we also seek to block that which is desired and longed for.
Sin, or ignorance, labels do not matter,
The fruit is the same.
The treasure hidden,
Is what we are made for
Buried in a field of confusion,
Longings that really build walls,
Until, if ever, what is needed is learned.
Seek to understand and love comes,
It grows in fields of freedom and paradox,
Fear, put aside and pain and joy both accepted.