the sounds change,
light plays,
at one with the bubbles!
The leaves drift and tug,
return and run.
The shadows shift and huddle closer.
An eye winks,
“What are you doing here!” it asks,
I can’t answer,
my voice is lost,
I hear only me!
Bubbles race away,
babbling they have a meeting,
with their friend the sky!
It darkens,
the shadow weaves,
its own languid song,
"Still waters, do run deep!" it sings!
I drift along,
time has stopped,
meaning has left.
The sands beckon me to wake them,
begging “Please walk on me,
but we won’t remember you!”
along the endless fields,
Where nothing grows.
Some vagabond wanderers passes quickly,
saying nothing!
Funny how small I am to them?
I wonder, “Do you wonder what I am!”
I must seem an ungainly monster,
and so noisy in your tranquil home.
The distance is nowhere,
the walls are nothing,
their world and mine,
so out of reach,
no longer so,
thank you Jacques Yves Cousteau,
for taking our hand to such a wonderland.
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