We are all driftwood
in an ocean of encounters,
flotsam of each others lives.
Tossed to and fro by the waves,
without direction or guidance,
we bounce up and sink down low,
utterly delivered unto the tides and times.
Destiny has decided our fate
and we drift aimlessly along,
until we smash against a rock
and are forced to decide.
Do we yield, or do we resist?
Resisting, were knocked into splinters,
and we rejoice, for we are more,
not realizing how much we are reduced.
Yielding, we gain a foothold
and we anchor against that rock
and gradually are wedged deeper
and deeper until we become one
with it and toss around no more.
The waves still crash, the storms still rage,
yet we are unmoved, unshaken, firm
for we have found strength in One
who has faced the storms and overcome,
who have raced the oceans and have won.
