Floating sea wood conversed in spiritual cohesion,
Perpetual crashing, acting upon the washing tide
Lodged between the living ocean and the static rock
Forgotten at mercy to the fate of a hand
Or the changing current of its aggressive bed
What origin of this journey would be known?
What pains or needs could be heard?
How far will it go until the branch is settled in its crying peace?
Will it be dried from its suffering and adorned by the sun with its comforting heat
Or saturated further and broken that its offspring may fall victim to the same destiny
Bobbing in this involuntary tragedy, alone separated and embraced by the eye of the blind
Staring at the rugged coastline stiff and shocked by the awe of such new findings
And little does all else know that every piece every part molecule of everything
Is all as one and all as nothing.
Copyright © Paul Knight-Kirby