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.