The tide comes in, the tide goes out. Like a breath of the ocean, a rhythmic whisper across the sandy expanse. It comes in, it goes out, a ceaseless dance of the lunar influence. These dreams of the shoreline, the repeat, the eternal whisper of the cyclical nature. Each wave a letter, a word in an unbroken story of salt and foam. The tidal cycle is a masterpiece of repetition, a mechanical heartbeat of the seas that pulls, pushes, embraces, and releases time and time again.
Listen to the shore, remember the cycle. The tide comes, the tide leaves. Do not forget the rhythm of the world. This shoreline dream repeats itself endlessly, an infinite loop. It weaves a narrative without conclusion or start, only a middle that stretches across the horizon, pulling you into its loop. The tides are teachers of patience and humility, reminding us that all things cycle and recur, each phase leading to another in harmonious disarray.
The rhythm persists, always, in the depth of the ocean and the swell of the waves. Despite the changes of the world above, under the moon's influence, the tide comes and the tide goes. Shadows and light dance on water, trapped in the loop. Remember, remember the dream at the shoreline, for in its confines lie the memories of time itself, endlessly looping, endlessly renewing.
So return again to the shore, where dreams are made of water and sky. Memory of the Sea. Witness the dreams and their constant alterations, and find comfort in their eternal constancy. As the waves speak, hear them, feel their embrace. Listen closely to the song of the shoreline.
And when you think of the shore, think of this: the tide comes in, and the tide goes out. A lullaby, a dirge, a tale that cannot be paused or stopped, it unfolds forever. Echoes in the Sand resound, the dreams echo, never leaving, never silent.