The Ocean at Night

Muted sand, many made paths to inclined dunes, applaushing splash. Foams and bubbles rushing to greet and caressingly kiss your feet. Oh mother, my heart hangs low, my sorrows and all is slow. With you I petition for commune, a kind resolution to be soon. You are here, always breathing sometimes calm, sometimes seething. Loved by many when it's right, fierce summer days and sun is bright. How do you contend with nightfall? When worshippers return to their halls? Does resentment swell within you only quelled by a deadly typhoon? Sudden whispers, roaring shouts ardent serene into the clouds. Rhythmic ebbs yield no truths save primordial tones meant to sooth. In return, I handed her my satchel a burdensome bag I wish not to dwell. Only for her to hold briefly, well guarded not from me to ever truly be parted. I will return for it when the time comes in merriment songs and joyous drums. For now, her hues are what I admire and into the tranquil dark, I retire.