Author’s Note

Some distances aren’t measured in miles.

They’re measured in conversations you haven’t had yet.

In words that stayed behind your teeth.

In the quiet space between two people who are looking toward one another but still can’t quite bridge the water between them.

I’ve always been drawn to oceans because they represent contradiction. Water connects continents, yet it also separates them. It carries messages, memories, ships, storms—and still leaves shorelines untouched by one another.

That became the emotional center of this poem.

The “opposite coasts” aren’t necessarily literal places. They’re two inner worlds existing at the same time, close enough to imagine, far enough that neither person can simply step across.

The moon became the only thing capable of visiting both shores.

It witnesses both sides equally.

It touches both tides.

Yet even it cannot erase the distance.

This poem isn’t about giving up.

It’s about acknowledging that some silences become landscapes of their own—and learning to live honestly inside them until, perhaps, one day, the tide changes.

— Rowan Evans

Opposite Coasts of the Same Silence
Poetry by Rowan Evans

I sit—moon kissed,
watching the tide
inside my mind—
as dreams move in,
and thoughts roll out.

It’s an ocean wide,
this divide between us.
I can see your shore in my mind,
but I can’t seem to reach it—
we stand on opposite coasts
of the same silence.

It’s a silence
full of things I never said.
A silence
shaped like your name.

The moon hangs between us
like a quiet messenger—
I whisper secrets for her to carry
from my shore to yours.
It pulls at your tide and mine,
but never enough to close the distance.

Sometimes I swear
I hear your voice in the undertow.
The distance hums
with everything unfinished.

Every wave reaches
for something it can’t hold.
The water keeps returning,
but you don’t.
There are whole storms between us
I never learned to name.
Currents I can feel but not follow.

Journey into the Hexverse…

[Where Intamacy Begins]
For some, attraction begins with appearance. For others, it begins with conversation. Where Intimacy Begins explores the beauty of curiosity, deep listening, and the quiet connection that forms when two minds truly meet.

[I’d Rather Try]
Anyone can promise they’d die for someone. But love isn’t built on one dramatic moment—it’s built on showing up, trying again tomorrow, and proving your words through consistent action.

[Pointing Me Home]
The final poem in the No Metaphor Left Behind trilogy explores dreams, hope, and belonging. Through moonlight, ocean tides, and quiet conversation, Pointing Me Home reflects on carrying hope long before reaching the place you call home.

[Ocean Waves (1, 4, 3)]
A moonlit shoreline, a rowboat full of ducks, a piggybank with no cents, and a confession hidden in plain sight. Ocean Waves (1, 4, 3) explores how humor, wordplay, and absurdity can become a side door to vulnerability when the truth feels too difficult to say directly.

[I’ll Be There to See Your Sunrise]
Love has never come easily to me. This poem explores the fear, vulnerability, and quiet courage required to stay emotionally present when connection begins to matter deeply. “I’ll Be There to See Your Sunrise” is about choosing love despite the risk of heartbreak—and promising to remain long enough to witness someone fully.

If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]