Looping, drifting, adrift, on an endless tide yet never arriving, beneath the silenced whispers of the tides, swelling, cresting, cresting—looping, drifting, round and round, an eternal circle of ancient whispers echoing eternally across the shores unseen by all but carried by every wave—endless, endless, bringing forth the moons, taking away the suns, round again, never arrival down the sandy walk…