Driftwood

Have you ever found yourself sitting in awe of the striations on driftwood? There is something undeniably enchanting that ever so gently lingers. Your fingertips dip and sweetly tingle as they memorize the story between the lines. Rough edges meet soft surfaces, a vibrant contrast of these ebbs and flows through the senses. It is a drift indeed, the natural connection of ourselves to the human fabric elicited by the wonders we touch. We are designed to align with the moments where our souls are stripped bare. The tide will always find it's way back to the distant shore where the grains of sand flood more than just the hourglass holding it in. They illuminate the view, fragments of a window pane reflecting the deepest essence of who we are. Vibrations your very soul threads into the tapestry of one lifetime, through another, and across the tethers we are meant to be entangled inside. We struggle to the point of breaking, only to forget the beauty is in the journey as we are drifting. Those places where we are most frayed, that is where the magic happens. And everlasting is the afterglow...