Whispers of the Receding Tide

Beneath the swirling shadows of the restless sea,
whispers carried on the wind, melodic echoes lost
to time's cascade, like sacred songs played in reverse.

In the depths of silence, a rhythm pulses
The beat of the moon, a clandestine dance
Who listens?, and who remembers?

Footprints on the shore, stories washed away,
yet the tide returns, insistent, a silent witness
to the melodies played in reverse, an ancient song.