Drift Wood

Left upon a lonely stretch of beach by relentless forces, indifferent to your wishes; you lie here forgotten by all.

Without shelter you sit exposed and naked at the end of your path.

Once beautiful skin cracked and faded by the sun of days beyond counting.

Insects nest in your decaying flesh, even here, at the finish, there is no tranquility.

Powerful roots once deeply imbedded in the rich fertile soil of life now warped and shrunken with time.

Mystical patterns of scattered footprints mark the sand surrounding you.

Families on picnics, lovers, and campers pass you by.

They see you as yet another obstacle to be avoided, as they go on with their lives. 

Do they remark upon you, or take time to wonder where you’ve come from?

Sitting by your side at the end of your path I wonder, where your journey began.

In your long life you have unfailingly offered shelter, a sustaining fire that chases away the cold.

What wonders have you seen across the years, floating through miles of sunshine and darkness; only to be marooned far from your native soil.

Hidden by the rising tide, how many times have you gone unseen as I travel this path?  Here, at the end of your path, your lonely end leaves a mark upon my life.