We are cradled by gentle waves,
writing our names in aquamarine water.
Low tide, high tide, slack tide,
the chum rings the dinner bell,
rods standing, waiting for the challenge.
Are we using the right bait?
Are we at the right place?
We sing songs we have forgotten,
there's a flow, there's a dance,
we cast, and then we wait,
we learn from trial and error.