Sifting Poem by Josephine Collett

Sifting through the debris, silent as shifting fog
my thoughts wander, recollect
and centre on the grains of precious worth
among the flotsam of a life.
So much sifting there within to find a jewel,
Acres of uncharted oceans where there waits
the smallest oyster, open it
to find a pearl.

Words upon words trickling through the ages
fall upon the air between our lives, wait unbidden
on the pages of a thousand volumes. What will last
to mark our way?
What compass needle threads a charted path?
What flickering lighthouse beam to guide a soul
upon the restless tossing seas of life?

What will we cling to when the fires of hell
have scorched our place of earth, have scattered all
beyond the pale? What jewelled thought
will hold my head up high beyond the lash
of tenure, trial and even death, beyond
the clods of earth that cover me?
Sift my life.
Where is the gold I leave behind?