Driftwood

Lost at sea, that’s what I am. I am fallen away from my roots and my home, my family tree, just looking for a beach to call home. I miss my old home, but I am excited to find a new one, one to call my own. But where will this home be? If I go with this current my home may be north, if I follow another current it may be south. If I get caught up in a storm I may lose my way and may never find it. The elements shape me and control my appearance as well as my trajectory. Where oh where will I find my home?

A couple of months ago a fishy nibbled on my bark a couple of times and we became friends. Fishy told me if I went the way she was going that she could help me find my home. She was a nice fishy and protected me from other meaner fishes. But, I knew she could never live on land with me. Poor fishy, she tried to help the best she could but there was a storm ahead that we both didn’t pay attention too. I lost my fishy friend but the impact she made on my bark and the direction she pointed me in bounded me on a new stream.

I’ve been floating at sea for years now, confused, tired, a different branch from when I started my journey. I don’t even recognize myself anymore. The storm that caught me left me dazed and jaded. I don’t know if I will ever find my home anymore. I don’t think I care.

AHOY LAND!!!

Home at last, it’s here! I found my sandy shore.

It’s been weeks now and I have been stuck on this shore staring at the same sky. A couple of birds flew above me and one perched on me. I admit I like being at this new home, it’s not as hectic as the journey here. The stability of it all reminds me of my old home.

But. . .I miss the journey. I miss the life on the open sea. I feel that I should have appreciated the sound of the waves splashing onto my bark. I miss fishy. I miss staring up at the stars floating around in the water and feeling the excitement of finding home. I even miss the stress and anxiety a bit, it made me feel alive. I should have enjoyed the journey a little more.

I miss old home and I miss fishy. Maybe the open sea was home??? Maybe, that was just a way of living a different kind of life. Maybe I’ll ask bird friend to fly me back into the sea. Maybe. . .