There lies the whispered ripple beneath dream's lunar sea,
an echo woven through the tides. Mysterious
pearls of thought drift amidst shoals of silent
memories, where the moon dabs silver upon the invisible
threads that tie moment to moment—the penumbra of time's
vast oceanic expanse waiting to murmur your name
again and again, a call from the brine's echoing
cradle, elusive and ungraspable.