Drifting

Someones silent  friend

was torn and blown with gusto to

the river  and then a stormy sea

a journey had begun

green still living, leaves and all

submerged essentially once tall

now a piece broken away

projecting far,  yes from today

to foreign climes

annexed it be

What would be its inherency

connected now to an ocean wide

really moving with the tide

a world of difference

from whence it came

Part of a tree

blossoms aflame

fighting it way to the canopy

where the light is right

and the air is free

and now in the salty choppy brine

waves a plenty, a relentless sign

floating onwards who knows where

Feeling very  small

And lacking care

a disunion and some discord

a shambolic trail with no reward

windswept windblown

overlapping

monotonous

not caught napping

assembled forced of life intact

staying power how to react

Fading light and brightness comes

a massive roll on Nature’s drums

Music in a lilting way

Softens in an untimely spray

drifting cataclysmically

whirl pools flat calm where will we be

in perhaps a year or three

thrice around the world

it seems to me

Deprived  of mothers greener sap

a backdrop from her cherished lap

the randomness of where we be

Neither lady luck or the lottery

Would  play a part in this voyage

lets say

further and further every day

Becoming smoother

the constant floating

Edges cracking

its worth noting

almost a year

has passed since I

was torn from the tree

Which is why I be

here in the maelstrom

activity

its hard to judge

the proximity

of bows of ships

and the constancy

of the silver spray

and the certainty

ten years or more

what do I see

smooth round edges

reasonably

Ready to whittle

into some art

a piece of driftwood

from the heart