We are all blades of grass,
waiting to be sheared-
stones,
waiting to be cut-
clay,
prepped for the molding-
holes,
yearning to be filled-
each one seeking to make a lasting
impression-
each one drawn to belong-
drawn to what matters-
bait on a hook,
ready to be cast far into a tranquil
sea-
we are all searching
for ourselves-
they wait for us*