Tide & Upwelling: A Diptych

I. Tide Sleeping, breath rolls in waves,surf on the shore of dreams.Moon hauls the dreamer’s water, phase by phase;kelp-dark thought uncoils, opens like a palm. Thought-flotsam the shore collects,wrack from teeming verdant life.The dreamer buries treasure;the woken mind finds a chest—jinni, genius, jest—Ozymandias trailing his measure across wet sand. Slowly, tide erases all it gave,back to sea, watery grave.Bone meal, salt, the nameless giving—dead and dying, pushed up unforgiving. What the deep swallowed, cold upwelling spends:light that feeds the living never ends. II. Upwelling Dawn cracks night’s shell,spills yolk across the sand.Ankle-deep in the dark’s expulsion—shells, kelp, gull’s hollow wing—I sift for the chest’s lost gleam. Jinni yawns, half-smoke, half-jest;genius folds like a spent wave.Treasure dulls to trinket in light:sea-glass ring that crowned a kingwho swore his works outlasted tide. Cold current keeps its vow—what sank returns as shimmeron grass blades, veins…