Drifting Poem by Mario, Lucien, Rene Odekerken
Drifting
The waves pull, slow and steady,
carrying me where the wind decides.
No anchor, no direction,
only the endless rhythm of the tide.
The sky shifts from gold to gray,
clouds stretching thin like forgotten promises.
Land fades into the distance,
a memory I can no longer touch.
Weightless, untethered,
I surrender to the current,
drifting further,
until even the horizon lets me go.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/28/2026 4:06:33 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
