Out of The Ground

I'm digging in the dirt, trying to find it.
I'm covered in mud. It rained. I'm saturated.
I can find it.
If I look hard enough.
I'm going to keep digging. It's there.
My fingers are raw from digging, I can feel the dirt seep into my pores.
The hole is getting bigger.
A hand touches my shoulder, I can feel the warmth, the energy from that hand, that touch. It's going to be okay.
It dark.
It's cold.
But that hand assures me that I'm going to find what I need to find.
The hole is bigger.
There's something there.
I know it.
I see a spark.
It's glistening...
Underneath the dirt, it's there.
Tears form in my eyes. I'm not sad.
I'm elated.
I found it.
It was there all along. Bright white, sparkling in the ground. I brush the dirt away. It's been there all along.
I finally found it.
I reach down and grab it. It's white sparkling, and it's mine.
It was missing for all these years, and here it is.
I'm complete.
I'm whole.
I'm out of the ground and on the earth.