A Return to the Sea
The Wheel of Time Turns.
The soft, slow sound of the waves. The Wheel turning with every slow steady throb.
Memory fades to legend.
Legend fades to myth.
Even myth is long forgotten..
But the ocean still remains, and so do those who belong to the ocean. To the turning of the Wheel. For whom the gritty feeling of moist sand between the toes is forever reborn, whose lives are as regular as the tide.
To see the world in a grain of sand
Some dream of the ocean, and fly to it when the Wheel turns them loose. They dream of things eternal, forever new, forever reborn with the tide.
And a heaven in a wild flower,
A tall man dressed in white walked along the beach. The soft music of the tide, sea breeze playing in hair damp with spray, and the gritty feeling of moist sand between his toes. A tune on his lips, a soft song that never quite ended, because the Wheel was not turning here.
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
Here, there was forever in a moment by the edge of the World Sea.
And eternity in an hour
The soft, slow sound of the waves. The Wheel turning with every slow steady throb.
Memory fades to legend.
Legend fades to myth.
Even myth is long forgotten..
But the ocean still remains, and so do those who belong to the ocean. To the turning of the Wheel. For whom the gritty feeling of moist sand between the toes is forever reborn, whose lives are as regular as the tide.
To see the world in a grain of sand
Some dream of the ocean, and fly to it when the Wheel turns them loose. They dream of things eternal, forever new, forever reborn with the tide.
And a heaven in a wild flower,
A tall man dressed in white walked along the beach. The soft music of the tide, sea breeze playing in hair damp with spray, and the gritty feeling of moist sand between his toes. A tune on his lips, a soft song that never quite ended, because the Wheel was not turning here.
Hold infinity in the palm of your hand
Here, there was forever in a moment by the edge of the World Sea.
And eternity in an hour