THE STRANGER

On the high tide line
where the mangrove sway,
in a hollow trunk
his sleeping body lay,
waiting for water
to lap at his feet,
knowing very soon
a stranger he would meet.

Someone to take him
beyond the mist,
mark his name
off the list
of ones who'd gone,
but again came back
to fulfill a need,
gain a lack.

The stranger walked
through sun and rain,
into the darkness
to heal his pain,
over mountains
for days and nights,
until he saw bright
dancing lights,
hovering about
in the below,
now awakened
he had to go
down the hill
so very steep,
into water which
was quite deep.

He stopped to rest.

As he carefully
descended the slope,
he found himself
filling with hope,
was this sight
he could clearly see
the turning point
for him to be
somewhat changed
from who he was,
different from before,
transformed from
all the happenings
to be someone more
able to understand,
life is a complex thing,
having many challenges,
times when you don't sing.

As all these thoughts
flowed through his mind
he totally let go
of wanting to find
anything more than
this realisation, as
slowly he proceeded
to his unknown
destination.

Morganpoet