Just a poem I wrote this evening and felt like sharing.
"Driftwood"
The crest of multiple waves laps at the sand;
The shimmering tide has come in too soon
And lying gnarled, twisted and damp in my hand
Is a limb washed in by the pull of the moon
Torn asunder and carried out to sea;
Weathered away and full of its own grief
Yet in its crooked, mangled face I see
An alarmingly familiar motif
Of men and vessels lost upon their voyage
To see the world and in turn find their way;
Seeking desperately a way to salvage
The passion that once set their hearts ablaze
Though time has changed our now beaten bodies
In the days we spent drifting out of reach
This branch and I were bound by our histories;
Destined to wash up on the shore of this beach
"Driftwood"
The crest of multiple waves laps at the sand;
The shimmering tide has come in too soon
And lying gnarled, twisted and damp in my hand
Is a limb washed in by the pull of the moon
Torn asunder and carried out to sea;
Weathered away and full of its own grief
Yet in its crooked, mangled face I see
An alarmingly familiar motif
Of men and vessels lost upon their voyage
To see the world and in turn find their way;
Seeking desperately a way to salvage
The passion that once set their hearts ablaze
Though time has changed our now beaten bodies
In the days we spent drifting out of reach
This branch and I were bound by our histories;
Destined to wash up on the shore of this beach