Uncertain Shore

Floating on the tide

Like driftwood skimming

Along the tops of the waves.

Calm...at times...resting

Seconds, instead of hours,

Bobbing in the sun,

Basking             serene                 tranquil.

Many times...

Eternities, the bits of wood,

Tempest-tossed, are

Thrown against the

Shores of life.

Once there,

Some stay longer,

Some shorter, and

Just when the beach

Becomes home for each,

The rollers return,

To pull their prizes

Back to sea,

To some other uncertain shore.