Smoothly and tenderly, rising and falling with the swelling
of the ocean, as it's rhythm sinks within our intellect.
Building it's meaning through creativity, lulling passion
into a silent awakening, ideas along with thoughts, surfing
on top of the waves.
Harmony, like a violin stringing hearts, as they are gathered
into bouquets of sadness from beyond.
Cresting, foaming with imagination, as it crashes upon shore,
grasping sand, wishing to hold onto it forever, not flowing
back out to ocean depths again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The lull of falling water is simply magical......to put to rest by soothing means can be had in music of waves only..... RoseAnn.......outstanding piece