Poetry
Deserted Island
by Traci Neal
When I watch
the water meet
the shore,
they touch
each other
as a connection.
When I watch
the sun meet
the peak of
a mountain,
they collect light.
This is isolation
wanting to wash
worries, extend
sunshine onto
steep hills.
This is peace
wanting to tell
sweet stories
within storms
and be a village.
The island waits
for a soul
that searches,
stays long
enough
until waves
of wonder
emerge.