The Monthly Gathering

In the small coastal village of Brine Harbor, poets gather every full moon to recite their work inspired by the tides. The event, known as "Moonlit Voices," draws a crowd as the sea swells and recedes beneath the pale light.

This month's theme: The Unseen Currents. Each poet is tasked with weaving tales, capturing the essence of the tides as seen through the lens of subconscious thought—those echoes that linger long after the ink has dried.

"The tide whispers secrets to us," claims Mira, a local poet, as she spills her words into the gathering dark. "But only those willing to listen can hear them."

Rising Words

The poems are not mere words; they rise and fall like the waves themselves. Their meaning ebbs, sometimes leaving shore debris of emotion and cognition.

Journalists, hidden among the audience, scribble down these echoes, their pens moving faster than the tides, driven by an unseen force.

"The ocean has a language of its own," says Elio, a seasoned reporter, eyes glinting with saltwater reflections.

The Reflection Pool

Beyond the poems, a mirror-like pool reflects the moon's pallor, drawing the poets into its hypnotic embrace. Some say it is the entryway to hidden realms, where tides whisper truths.

In this reflective space, the boundary between reality and imagination blurs, giving rise to a new kind of narrative—one planted firmly in the ocean's depths yet soaring among the stars.

"Tonight," Mira whispers, "the tide speaks of things yet to come." Her voice trails off like a wave fading into starlight.