In the dark blue depths of the sea resides she,
maiden of palest silver hair and steel-grey fin,
shark tail and mother ocean's purest of green
eyes, weathered seaglass but sharp as the
Once I saw her there and my bubbles were released
for flight as she gave me a steely smile,
fierce and flexible, knowing yet understanding
Then in a flash of pale she was darting away
but like a moth thirsting for knowledge to a flame
of discovery, I followed
with my plastic and air tanks.
A laugh, sounds a stream of bubbles and water
rushing, she glances over her blue-pale drowned
shoulder and the purest of green, brightest of
emerald enthralls me, a scientist yet a believer
of the unseen. Her steel-grey shark's tail, long and
black-tipped strokes sideways, smaller fins guiding, and
when I reach my hand out in wonder it flicks against my
bare palm, sandpaper-rough.
Her face is an angel's, drowned. In
the eye of my mind I see the lyre harp at
her side, secured by a careful hand that may
have once been decorated in royalty's jewels and
protected by soft satin of queen's gloves. Her head turns as
she hardens her seaglass eyes, as if she had heard
the thoughts. I see a flash of what seems to be
betrayal in her purest-green eyes before she
disappears in a blur of paleness, and I could not
stop myself no more than I could her as I tried
to shout, Wait!
Nothing, just my bubbles. Mother ocean
felt empty and cold as my eyes peered apologetically
through my plastic goggles.
Ten years pass, and every time I pretend
to be an ocean-living creature with
my awkward tanks and human equipment, I feel her laughter
spike through the currents, mocking.