The waves don’t wait for wonder,
they curl and pull, a breath, a hush—
and I hear them.
I see her against the sunlight,
two blurred figures—
my mother carrying my daughter.
Bold laughter, fingers pointing,
the horizon points back.
My feet sink in shifting sand,
I let them, I let them.
The waves don’t wait for longing,
they play, sing, and vanish—
they surrender.
Start with a Story 
This paints such a vivid picture. I can see them right there on the edge of the ocean. Thanks for sharing such a lovely memory.
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You’ve created a beautiful mood with your poem. That first line contains a world!
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I love this image. It reads to me like a snapshot from Harry Potter. A photograph, yet I can see it moving and feel my feet sinking in the sand. ❤️
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Beautiful moments, well written.
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