Driftwood

Driftwood

Driftwood.

 

I become driftwood.

 

Ocean tossed.

 

Shaped,

Weathered,

Colored,

By forces beyond me,

Forces so vast I only know the faint edges.

 

I saw a horse once.

 

Shaped of driftwood.

Shaped in artistry

To show the essence,

The breath,

The very heart of what a horse is.

Each piece of driftwood fitted together,

Carefully,

Skillfully,

Expressing a thought far beyond

(Far beyond…

Or maybe locked deep inside)

The shape of weathered wood.

 

I’ve been shaped,

Weathered,

Colored,

Seasoned,

By forces vaster than I can know.

Shaped

For a purpose.

Giving life to a thought far beyond

(Or perhaps deep within)

My weathered shape.

 

For that…

 

I’ll be driftwood.

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