Let the waves be the shadows of thoughts untamed,
The crest and trough of consciousness drift.
What is the wave but an echo of time, rising and falling
With rhythm undefined by tethered fate?
Consider the ripple that dances under moon's gentle gaze:
Each particle in a soliloquy, realizing the whole.
If you listen closely, do you not hear yourself
Echo in the depths of each frothing whitecap?
What lies beneath the surface, uncharted and unseen?
Could understanding be but a wave breaking
In an everlasting collision of cosmic thoughts?
Yet still, we swim, hold our breath, embrace the dive.
Cycles unending, like the heart —
Drifting beyond horizon, no destination.
Find solace in the transient foam of wisdom,
and say hello to the calm aftermath here.
Inland Currents speak quietly of reliance,
while Distant Dreamwave reflects silent depths.