My Lasting Minutes

(“I Carried the Map All Along”)

I searched for treasure far and wide,
With restless heart and stubborn pride.
Through cities bright and deserts bare,
Believing more must wait out there.

I followed trails of whispered lies,
Of riches found beneath the skies.
Each chest I opened, lined with gold,
Felt colder than the tales they told.

I chased the thunder, drank the flame,
I craved the crown, I played the game.
But every prize I claimed with might,
Left darker corners in the night.

I passed the weeping, walked on by,
Too proud to kneel, too numb to cry.
The hands that reached, I didn’t see —
So blind with want, I failed to be.

I saw the mighty rise and fall,
Their kingdoms built on bitter call.
Yet in the ruins, still and deep,
I heard a truth begin to weep:

That treasure isn’t bought or found,
Not buried in the waiting ground.
It lives in love that lifts and stays,
In mercy shown in quiet ways.

It’s in a child’s unguarded grin,
A friend who sees the hurt within.
It’s in a word that breaks the chain,
A tear that falls like healing rain.

I carried maps in hand and mind,
But none could show what I would find.
The path I walked was always wrong —
Yet still my soul kept walking strong.

For all I sought was close, not far,
Not in the gold, but who we are.
And when I gave instead of grasped,
The treasure filled the space I’d clasped.

So now I know, and now I see —
The treasure lived…
Inside of me.