swipe or read below if you wish. 🙏
...I was musing on words. Where are they before they arrive? In what mood? Do they prefer some to others? Then I saw the wide ocean in my imagination and then it began. It's weirdness I can account for by blaming my own. 😊 I hope you find entertainment within.
In a Blue Column of Ocean
Words can easily swim,
in the natural chaos,
like opposing forces,
when loosed to flow,
inside fluid suspension.
In a blue column of ocean light,
mind pulls from the surface,
the playful, bright darting fish.
Its vibrant, joy filled colors, a glad display.
In a blue column of ocean dark,
heart beckons to the thing below,
that ripples with dour putrescence.
Its love decaying the drowning sun rays.
Meeting in my mid navy blue,
the beasts slide and sing,
as the groans and bleats,
become a single being,
writhing on waves of reality.
Glad scales with bright faces,
flutter in opposite ways,
and quake while glistening.
A few cracked dour maws,
are always reshaping,
gargling out decaying shrieks.
Their coughed up globules,
roll awkward as they drift,
and make a definite music.
The significant sounds,
some might take for granted.
Yet, a blend of light and dark,
is a welcome into the splendid.
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