The Journey

Along the beach above the waves
Smoothed by time
A stone;
Purposeless, I suppose,
No reason I could tell
For stone and me to meet.

Some day hence I too will lie
Worn by time
And weary;
The query now, I suppose,
The answer I think I know:
In life, did purpose meet?

I threw the stone into the sea
Hard and far from whence it came;
In the journey is the purpose;
I wish the stone were me.

13 thoughts on “The Journey

  1. Will. You wrote this for me. I walk on our the beaches of our Inlet and see no purpose. I throw the smooth worn rocks into the salt water and feel they are me awash in my tears. I’ll think of you (as I do) the next time I visit the water and see rocks.

    Liked by 1 person

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