Sunk in a dream of water,
you can hold your breath
as long as you want,
or breathe as deep as you dare.
You’re amazed that white
light plumbs so far,
that candlefish halos orbit
auras of tangled hair.
You could float or fly,
but choose to walk
beyond undulating timberlines
of unkempt kelp.
There, among ghost coral’s
skeletal cells, you learn
how the sea transforms itself
into rain, into forest, into lovers,
into salt.
