I envy the echo of sea shells. 

Whether or not you stop to listen,

They tell you stories of their home.

Translate life in depth and detail,

And tale of parallels existing alongside them.

Oracles. Ancient.

Constant. Wise.

Well, this plane memory of mine-

As flat as it is dreary,

Recalls no matter of events

In anyway to envy.

What stories shall I tell?