The wood for trees and other metaphors look towards ourselves,

Often important, just as self-examination,

Reflection, consideration for how I might have done better,

And the leading lines of paths previously sewn.

Time to look once again, this time perhaps squinting will reveal what God really wants of me.

She walked into the photograph,

Unaware of the role she would play,

A random figure in a study of rocks and sea

Visible on a bright summer afternoon,

As the sun settled into the deckchair of the day.

Meanwhile, she talked to someone, and remained oblivious to each other.

Before and after the event. Perhaps forever.