Driftwood

washed across
to new shores
from old homes,
where do I belong?

I carry with me
a lightness
that comes with
riding the waves
of Life.

parts of me
devoured
by the vagaries
of time,
to infuse life
into other forms.

a piece of driftwood.
on a lonely sea.

what's left now
in a dead tree?
lessons in living,
and being free.
inspiration
for an eye
that sees life
even in death.