I, the bird, to this marine world
looked back up at the bastion of mine
from a new perspective.
The brass propellers,
the ‘streamlined’ shape of the beast,
seemed insignificant, to the beasts of God below.
I insignificant,
out of place,
in a way that awed a part of me
A vortex of swelling frigidity replaced the air of my world,
I spit out the tube
lurched back to my reality
My scape.
I saw the bright yellow
pale blue, above,
and a squadron of orange tipped tubes floating
about the rippling white capped sea.
The pearl again white, and pure.
The Voices fluttered about, and grins were sent our way.
I looked inside for my knot of fear,
it dissipated,
impossible to reassemble as dry sand.
water drained from my tube
outstanding figures below were gone.
All that was left was the shadow of the boat,
a couple dozen still to my rear approaching.
But the serenity and rush were gone.
The perception of the sea’s attitudes on my weak flesh,
the fear of the unknown,
vaporized like boiling ice.
The whole experience lost, and replaced.
Urgency lost, I floated about on the plane between two of God’s worlds.
Neither of which we truly understand.