A Piece of Wood Floating

A piece of wood floating down a stream
follows the current around rocks and over
rapids and shoals and past gravel bars.
It has no mind of where it is going.
It has no will to chart a different course.
It simply floats along effortlessly
on a watery surface always changing.
It bangs into boulders sometimes.
It drags and scrapes over tiny, hard stones.
It drifts across the warm, still body
of a long pool in the middle of the day.
After miles and miles of streams
and rivers and ocean tides, it lands
on a far shore, worn smooth to the touch
and bleached a pure bone white.