Driftwood
Drifting, a piece tree, discarded, in the grip of a turbulent sea. Taken in the current's chosen direction without effort on my part. Drifting beneath the hot sun of endless days, baking me dry. Listening to a gentle voice on the sandy beach. One who does not tire of saying, "Follow me". copyright 2017 - Donald P James Jr https://www.amazon.com/stores/Donald-P.-James-Jr./author