Eggshell-capped waters,
Teeming with briny life,
Lifting and sighing
For the moon's haunting eye;

Swirling flotsam
Amid vagrant currents,
Tumbling aimlessly
Down stones smoothed to shine;

A midnight, silent
But for echoes of purpose,
Yet alive with the movement
Of dreams between leaves;

An ocean of grasses,
Bowing in breathless breeze,
So softly shuddering
Against earthy embrace;

Your voice speaks to me.