Threads Between Tide and Hand

Along the quiet shore,
where waves write and erase without memory,
a net stretches
fine as breath,
fragile as hope.

Drawn from the sea’s endless body,
it gathers what cannot be seen
patience, waiting,
the rhythm of return.

Beside it, a hand holds a simple bag,
striped as stories carried home,
heavy not with weight,
But with the day’s quiet labor.

The ocean does not speak,
Yet it gives and withholds in the same motion.
Each pull of the net 
is a question asked of the tide.

Footsteps fade into the sand,
lines dissolve into water,
and still, the act continues
casting, drawing, carrying.

In this meeting of thread and wave,
of hand and horizon,
life moves gently-
unseen, uncelebrated,
yet deeply woven.

For what is gathered
is never just the catch
but the silent conversation
between the sea
and the soul that returns to it.

Object number

014.096