I stretch beyond what eyes can see,
A boundless realm of sand and sea.
So vast, so still—yet never bare,
A silence breathing everywhere.
I shimmer calm beneath the sky,
But hold a thousand storms nearby.
At times I whisper, soft and slow,
At times I rise, and roar, and throw.
I do not ask to be explored,
Nor beg the brave to seek my core.
I simply am too wide to bind,
Too deep for most to even mind.
They stand in awe along the shore,
And claim they've seen what I restore.
But all they see is surface blue,
A surface hiding what is true.
Some dip their toes, then flee the chill,
Some surf my waves, chasing the thrill.
They ride the rhythm, skim my face,
Yet never touch my shadowed place.
And then the divers come with pride,
With lungs like iron, eyes stretched wide.
They plunge with lights and fragile charts,
To chase the secrets in my heart.
They dive so deep their spirits strain,
Convinced they've touched my farthest vein.
But still I stretch, unknown, profound,
No end in sight, no solid ground.
And slowly, spent, they rise and drift,
Their courage dims, their will grows weak.
They whisper soft, “Too vast to keep,”
Then fade away, in silence deep.
Yet I remain the silent sea,
Not empty, but too deep to see.
A depth not meant for every soul,
A truth too wild to grasp in whole.
