⚓ Where Shadows Glide

Step into the Tide

The deck lay still, the lanterns low,

A salted breath, a weary frame;

He watched the tide where shadows glide—

And felt her move within the same.

Step into the Tide

🌊 Prose

He leans into the rail, the night set in its order—

moonlight laid upon the water in a quiet hush.

The ship moves as it must, its sail filled with wind,

steady to star and tide,

while beneath him the ocean keeps its deeper rhythm.

There are shapes in the dark that do not hold—

a rise, a fall, a curve slipping just beyond the eye;

and in that slipping, something stirs—

not wholly seen, not wholly known.

He thinks of her—not in form, but in feeling—

as one recalls warmth after it has passed,

a presence carried, though never held.

He stands between what is and what might have been—

and somewhere below, in quiet tide,

the dream moves on…