How to Build a Life on a Deserted Island

While through a dulled glass one might only see,

A forsaken land, and his own forsaken dreams.

I ponder and stare at this expansive sea,

To me the trees appear as beams,

Fronds morph into the roofing for a house,

Rocks look as blades, and fashioned foundations.

At this point the flame is impossible to douse.

The island transforms, a world for creations.

Through eyes and mind, filled with designs,

Hands and backs that tear, bend, and break.

The day wanes and the sun declines,

I survey the world I’ve helped make.

Oh, I’m glad the only thing I brought

Was creativity, if not I’d be distraught.