The Two Logs

They met on a day when the woodcutter yelled "Timber".
So different and so alike in so many ways.
They became good friends.
"One heart, one soul!" They exclaimed.

They set off on a journey together.
Off into the high seas, floating towards the horizon, bobbing.
Bark against bark, skin against skin, length against length.
"Never apart" They squealed.

Expectant, excited, eager.
Rain and sunshine. Wind and moonlight.
Two logs and one direction.
"What's ahead for us?" They asked.

Days passed. Vestiges of time.
Months passed. Sinews of trudge.
Years passed. Synapses of thought.
"What will become of us?" They silently wondered.

The currents worked. And worked.
Bark no longer against bark, skin no longer against skin, length no longer against length.
Drift. Drift. Drift.
"Don't go!" The first log shouted.

The second log was getting further away.
Bobbing slowly. But still too far away.
Two logs and two directions.
"Don't leave me! We made a promise!" The first log said.

Floating.
Drifting.
Bobbing.
"What will be?" They each silently pondered.