The light of day surrenders to night, a soft handoff upon the horizon. Sails descend with a whisper, cradling the sailors’ weary rest. Midnight drapes the air and sea in tapestry of deep blue and emerald’s hue.
Dreams of treasure drift through fathoms unseen, carried on currents of longing. In the stillness of slumber, new shanties are born—verses woven from silence and salt. A doxology anchors both what has been and what will be, steady as the tide’s return.
