The Dry Ocean
Lying near the vastness
of ocean breathing
with the melody of waves.
Breeze sang along the tides
whispering through and dreamy eyes
My own fingers carved something ,
Etched a groove
on the blank sheet
of sand
molding deep marks.
And the wind passed
I blinked.
The mark remained.
I Didn’t know what was it or
why was it?
Tried filling them up,
to return the shore to before.
Felt, had erased it,
it was at the shore,
realised a bit,
they were there , lingered
in some other gear.
Just some sand filled in those grooves ,
the marks remained beneath the layer ,
and whenever the waves swept over,
The grooves remained ,
not erased but waiting its return.
Dissolving the surface
revealing the depth ,
and darkness
revealing what the daylight hides.
And the stream begins out of dryness
falling down the cliff again
from that fall,
blossoms and melodies again.
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