As the north wind weaves through the labyrinth of dunes,
whispering tales of ancient mariners lost to the briny abyss,
a voice emerges from the sand,
soft yet piercing as the gull's call.
Beneath rippling waves the echoes linger—
forgotten soliloquies etched in time's relentless current,
audaciously scripting month-end reconciliations
of the heart against the ledger of the moon.
Here lies the sanctuary of yonder fishing net,
woven not just from twine but
from dreams—stretched and frayed,
caught between the tide's unwavering breath and
the shore's tentative embrace.
A chorus of salt and story, each grain a memoir,
reminds us of the pearls hidden farthest within.
Yet, among these treasures unyielding,
the hardest lesson learned is to listen
as the ocean whispers back in silence.
Wander you deeper into this solitude?
Murmurs of the Stars Above
or perhaps,
tread lightly on the Echoes of Time?