Ocean blue, whisper embrace, tender currents weave stories in sand, old tales clinging to shells.
The slow dance of time measured in breaths, in the rhythm of the tides, the moon's quilted touch.
Echoes of whispers, beneath the folds of the surface, secret codes scribbled by the current's hands.
Do they talk of journeys unseen, of lands beyond horizons? Perhaps they sing to the stars, as they swim.
"Breathe deeply, oh voyager of the azure, the depths cradle wisdom beyond your waking dreams."
Hear the EchoesTime in the depths is a gentle, cherished thing, caressing whispers, shaping silent destinies.
Whispers of the turtles, the guardians of the twilight, their eyes holding ancient galaxies.
In your heart, you’ll find them — the whispers taking form, a soft melody of the endless blue.
Does the whisper retreat with the sands, washed away, or does it nest in the heart's forgotten chambers?
Sing the Shell's Song