Do I know the strength of me?
I doubt i do.  
I sit in the wake of a tide; amongst the ebbs and flows.
As i sit upon the grainy sand i wonder what strength do I have in this life.
What strength do I have to exist and to change?

Am i the thread in the needle,
Weaving ever forward in the faith that the weaver knows its course?
Am I the pine that towers tall in the forest,
That is lost in my brothers never blooming?
Or am I the paper boat,
Sent on its mission, etched with purpose and on a course?

I’d like to think i am the third or at least a prelude to it.
For the paper boat is filled with its own hopes and dreams.
Without these things do i have the right to exist?
I’d like to live among the paper boats.