The Wave That Forgot the Ocean

In a room of drifting mind,
Where shadows cling and thoughts unwind,
A wave once wandered, lost in motion—
Unaware it was the whole wide ocean.

It chased reflections, bright and hollow,
Grasping phantoms it learned to follow;
Fed wrong appetite, fed the ache,
Fed every self the mind could make.

But one soft dawn, a whisper stirred—
A teaching not in spoken word:
A seed of wisdom dropped inside,
A lantern lit where fears reside.

The wave paused mid‑surge, mid‑flight,
And felt the tug of deeper sight;
A gentle pull, a subtle turning—
A warmth beneath the constant yearning.

It saw its grasping—sharp, intense—
The tightness of self-adherence tense;
And in that seeing, ice began
To melt back into where it ran.

The ocean whispered, vast and clear:
“You were never separate here.
Your ignorance, just a dream,
A flicker on the surface stream.”

The wave bowed low, dissolved its fight,
Let go the need to rise, not tight;
And in that yielding, soft and free,
It found its ancient unity.

Now when storms of craving rise,
It listens with awakened eyes;
It rides the swell with mindful art—
A wave aligned with ocean‑heart.

And every time it feels the pull
Of ego’s tide, of grasping full,
It breathes, remembers, melts again—
Returning to its origin.

So the story goes, and goes anew:
A wave forgetting, then breaking through;
A mindstream learning how to be
The ocean in its clarity.