Driftwood

 

You and I,

Are stuck,

As if, on different sands

Avoiding differences, drifting away

Until we come on different lands

 

Could we

Not have stayed afloat,

For our own selfish sake?

Did we have to snap and float away

Did the dying driftwood have to break?

 

Now entombed

In these beautiful sands of white,

We are parted by an ocean vast -

That swallows all that ever was,

Of rips and tides of all our past

 

Just when we think

There is nothing left

In the seas that broke us all,

The tide turns high and comes to drown,

Sand-dune large and driftwood small

 

The deluge chokes

And drags our pain

What price is this to pay?

I ask too soon for the tide replies

There is no more need to stay

 

The sea is not

A messenger lone,

A guardian it is as well,

Balancing hopes and dreams and pleas

Upon its ebb and swell

 

We are set free -

The sea whispers,

‘Go ahead - One more chance to sail,

Even if you do not win,

You do not need to fail…’

 _________________________

 

Inspired by a driftwood tree that I saw stuck on the white sands of the Kalapathar Beach

Cover photo: Author's archives