In the bowels of the ocean, where silence hums
like a distant lullaby, I found the echoes of creation
drifting—legends entwined in barnacle whispers.
Consider the journey of the whale song,
a ripple across eternity, vibrating
through currents as it seeks the stars above Rodger's Reef.
You can find the time
to melt improbabilities
into the dark sands beneath the endless azure
here
Reflective waves wash over identity,
metabolic, whispered through tides that creep,
ever embracing shore with liquid glee.
Enter the labyrinth of kelp forests,
intricate, in pursuit of rising bubbles,
sophisticated ribbons with answers buried
in the hearts of the conch shells.
Listen to the soft murmurs
of a trawling heart, mirroring your own,
you'll learn the rhythm seafarers dance to
amongst the shadows.
There, where surface lights play tricks
and illusion is an artist's sanctuary,
the ocean's voice becomes an aria of twinkling stars.