The Castaways

Where have you gone, my friend?
I have searched for you endlessly;
I can only imagine where you have gone;
Perhaps you have sailed away;
And a storm tossed you about;
Your wooden boat washed ashore;
On the beach of a tiny tropical island;
A place of unrealized dreams;
Perhaps you are sitting there;
Beneath the shade of a palm;
Raising a glass in a victorious toast;
Saying good-bye to the life left behind;
And to the pain that has scarred your soul;
Gone are the demands and complications;
Of everyday civilized living;
My messages are sent in glass bottles;
Floating precariously on ocean waves;
You sit in a lawn chair, strumming your guitar;
While your companions listen;
As they are writing verses;
About obscure Native legends;
And drawing pictures in the sand;
Although I may never feel;
My feet sink into cool, wet sand;
Nor will my lungs ever breathe in;
Clean and salty ocean air;
I am with you in spirit;
Picking wild orchids;
And placing them in your hair;
Perhaps you are happy there;
Watching the rising tide;
But I still miss you;
And I long for your return;
As you wait for the next boat;
That will one day bring you home.