From Up Here

Something brown beneath white ripples
that I can't quite see from here -
something underneath those ripples
provokes unendingly curious leer.

Maybe beneath those rippes
lies a truth not yet unearthed,
but were I to pull the curtain back
it should be a connection birth.

Rippled, that ocean lies,
pushed by the wind, not yet by fate,
perhaps a frequent flyer will flow
the tides - untermined dates.