The whole world is a sea— A great ball of green blue eye Watching the skies with a watery Gleam in the round and swirling Aye, the sea is a sauce, quivering In the bowl of heaven and clouds Are blushing with rivers run flushing Waters older than the gold of stars, Into the sea. I see that hushed time Is flowing as it all revolves with tides And birds, white as snow and foams Pure as dreamed downy wind, wings Long, sure, set for a choppy pilgrim's Sea journey, swaying with the stages, Always breezy, sliding as fish do flying In her rounding depths and her gusty Crests and all are riddled as mariners Who travel on her spindrift ways, days Of the dizzying sun and steamy springs, We all go step into deepest end, darkling Fathoms of slip, those eventual afterwhens, Riding the sunk, fabled under-ocean streams, In mangled kelps of weeds, into the murky wave.