Is there much better than laying awake listening to the ocean at night?

Hearing the endless waves crashing upon the shore.
A cosmic lullaby to the sand, a million mountains ground down to but motes between your toes?

That feeling that things do go on,
far beyond you, far behind you, far ahead of you.

Waves crash endlessly.
A dirge to those honored dead. A lullaby to the living. An anthem to the born.

By the gods there's a secret to the sea set against the eye of the sleepless moon.

We're only a passing fashion.

That eye has seen the ancestors of our ancestors of our ancestors come before us, bearing the same haughty thoughts.

They became the same as we'll be, or would be. But it's really all the same. We beat the same, hear the same, once the din of the modern world we live in drifts away.

Once the batteries die.
We all lie upon the sand.
And hear the same waves.

Sea eating shore until shore is no more but the chore is sure forevermore.

The sound that our ancestors heard is the same as we hear in our ears; we're scant different inside. Hearing the same wondrous sounds upon grounds which have drawn endless souls into the sea.

TL;DR