I searched all over the house,
searched the attic through and through,
I searched in all the cabinets,
I searched the outside too.
I knew it was in the basement,
but I didn’t want to go,
so I kept on searching in the kitchen—
I didn’t want to know.
So I searched the cupboards, closets, shelves,
barrels, boxes, crates—no go.
And on and on I search today,
I’ll never stop, oh no:
Searching is what makes me me,
I’ll never stop, oh no.
Quite thorough I have been,
In my little quest,
I searched in every room last night,
and today I searched the rest!
So brave am I! Always searching!
Yes, surely I deserve some praise!
Who else would search this hard, like me?
Without rest—for endless days and days!
So brave I am, and tireless,
to search the way I do.
Sure, I skipped the basement—
but honestly, you would too.
Of course I skipped the basement—
of this, I'm well aware.
Oh, I'm quite sure the things worth finding,
could never be down there.
So brave am I! So Righteous!
To never stop my search!
On and on, until the end—
for searching gives me worth.
Yet still, in all, I haven’t found
the thing I’m looking for,
so I will keep on searching, bravely,
on and on, for evermore.
Yes, I suppose I’ll keep on searching—
just not there—for evermore.
+++
This little poem sprang fully formed from my head while I was trying desperately to work on the book. Should I be concerned that this is what my unconscious created for me, unbidden?
Yes, yes I should. Let’s all make a point to, bravely, search our basements too.