Morning Blues

Falling backwards
into a glassy sea
I begin my descent
cradled by silver droplets
of my own respiration.
Midmorning sun frolics
about the sandy bottom
while sea worms dart
in and out of safety —
nature’s metronomes
keeping time
for the sun’s flickering rays.
Dancing shadows and light
take snapshots of nurse sharks,
angel fish, coral kingdoms, elusive eels.
A shimmering school of jacks
huddle beneath a boat
while barracudas stand sentinel
near the opening of a pier.
I too turn vigilant
and slow my breathing
as I hear whales serenade
in the distant depths.
With each exhale
my terrestrial need for air
obscures sound
preserving my mortality
but extinguishing
the bluesy aria
of an animal
too vulnerable
for this planet.
Again and again
a clamor of bubbles
eclipses harmonies
that stir longing
to be more than mere human.
Swimming into yearning and darkness
my air quickly dwindles.
Still I kick as if entrapped in a snare
as if I try hard enough
I might transcend earthly ways
and breech my imagined, inescapable net.