Entangled Oceans
@entangledoceans.bsky.social
Sometimes, I see beyond and in between—
the stories of our elders flickering through memory.
Water holds the tapestry, the architect of lite
In every ripple, the sound of becoming.
What my ears can hear is the story of creation-the moment we crash-landed,
remembering who we are.
the stories of our elders flickering through memory.
Water holds the tapestry, the architect of lite
In every ripple, the sound of becoming.
What my ears can hear is the story of creation-the moment we crash-landed,
remembering who we are.
October 12, 2025 at 3:35 AM
Sometimes, I see beyond and in between—
the stories of our elders flickering through memory.
Water holds the tapestry, the architect of lite
In every ripple, the sound of becoming.
What my ears can hear is the story of creation-the moment we crash-landed,
remembering who we are.
the stories of our elders flickering through memory.
Water holds the tapestry, the architect of lite
In every ripple, the sound of becoming.
What my ears can hear is the story of creation-the moment we crash-landed,
remembering who we are.
Whole poem: Sometimes, I see beyond and in between—
the stories of our elders flickering through memory.
Water holds the tapestry, the architect of lite
In every ripple, the sound of becoming.
the stories of our elders flickering through memory.
Water holds the tapestry, the architect of lite
In every ripple, the sound of becoming.
October 12, 2025 at 3:34 AM
Whole poem: Sometimes, I see beyond and in between—
the stories of our elders flickering through memory.
Water holds the tapestry, the architect of lite
In every ripple, the sound of becoming.
the stories of our elders flickering through memory.
Water holds the tapestry, the architect of lite
In every ripple, the sound of becoming.