Tempest-torn.
Plunged into the sea.
Unwanted tribulation,
and, to delight of the universe, flux.
From tree to refugee
on an aimless odyssey of
rootless drifting.
Branches broken.
Flayed of bark,
and scarred by worm-inflicted wounds.
Too many miles
before the hands reached out.
'Serendipitous', they say,
while on display.
'A masterpiece'.
'Such subtle textures'.
'Sublime asymmetry'!
John Walter Taylor
© All rights reserved
7 April 2025
