june rains , gokarna #4

Pattern language.

Waves in a constant race

Of frothing patterns

And splashing cisterns.

As water, salt and air bubbles

Salivate at the beach front,

They leave behind patterns

In the sand.

Lately I see patterns in me.

On my skin, in my breath.

As waves heave and crash within.

A bovine herd crosses

The beach.

The pattern of their hoof prints

Makes it simpler,

To pass the time.