a soft murmur brushing against sand, the kiss of waves upon the ear, like a secret murmuring, fragments of conversations stuck between grains. seas all the time echo rhythmically, heartbeats perhaps, yes perhaps like the beating of existential questions. amuse me, abyss. give me tears of wisdom o spiraled shells, the turning currents swirl with untold stories now left floating on distant shores.
The threads of this vast tapestry weaving, echoing eternally, yes, eternally, over and over, never the same pulse though, we climb forgotten mountain ridges with whispers craddled in broken waves. Can you feel it? The slight shift in direction of whispers, the thousands riding foam, in a canticle only the heart can translate. Link to the abyssal forethoughts, swim a little further.
listen closely and dare to engage, ridiculing the rhythm that seems simplifying omnipresent. desires hidden beneath veneer of tranquil shores looking for destinations unknown, all moths to unsung flames. another recitative in this bubbling cradle, where sands clasp generations who waited at the beginning when salt sewn the fabric somnolently sustained. another echo perhaps or none its indifference.