Belly (The Path of the Sea)

Getting farther
and farther away
from the shore.
Past the coral shelf,
Where a young boy
absorbs the warmth
of a peach cobbler sky.

With small feet kicking,
tiny bronzed toes momentarily
meet the tangerine sky-line;
Until the horizon cools
to a blueberry hue,
dusted by drops
of indigo dew.

Below the surface,
rocks, boneless creatures,
and bacteria seem so simple,
lining the bottom of a
soundless cerulean world;
They need only hydrogen
sulfide to survive.

Inside, mute and alive,
parallel forms of symbiosis lie,
in a microcosm and macrocosm
of biorhythms which might never
be fully discovered, or recovered.

A nature of smooth,
yet callous motions
swirl and calm.
Too infinite to know compassion,
a place where one predator strikes
through a layer of dark at its prey,
while another chokes on a piece of plastic.

At times, it’s difficult for the boy to see,
through the veil of the deep blue drink,
where a gulp of air and a gasp in brine,
leaves him floating amid the liquid line.

Still, he seeks – the constant baptism within his reach,
And with the torpid flow of the tide to teach – he knows,
Evolution and Being exist together, at his sandy feet.

Poetry by Ted Boughter-Dornfeld Copyright © 2009



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