Driftwood

Fallen from a tree on which it grew
Seasons and years that went by
A splash into the cold, salt-water waves
And off it sails, alone.

Some days it gets carried by the wind
Some days the moon’s tides pull
It lands ashore on a rock
And there the night, it stays

It has no will, it has no way
It’s heart belongs to the current
Never stopping, never ending
Off the rock it goes, one day

Alone again In calm waters still
It doesn’t know what it can really do
Waves wash along an island shore
Safe on a sandy beach, once more

It has no home, it has no end
Yet surrounded by a many welcoming lands
Safe and dry it feels in every place
But somehow or rather it never stays

A kind of hope remains as it gets washed away again
That perhaps the next shore will bring it’s journey to a final stop
This hope that lingers, even though it seems an empty horizon,
Should it let the waves take?

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