Prose Poetry: The Beckoning Seascape – 01/04/20

I wonder what it would be to live like in the sea, surrounded by clown fish and anemones, and smiling jellyfish that could sting as they please. Floating past little krill and tiny bright fish, I consider what my role would be in this charming, pristine, cobalt, irreverent water. I rise up and down, parading before no one, yet swollen, the swells, around me, the waves recede, their special charisma is innumerable, anything but singular simplicity.
 
I carry on with my journey – I notice my mermaid’s tail – so beautiful and sparkling, each seascape coloured scale, and I understand that I am here in a manner of being so-very blessed, my countenance shows my solemnity and gratitude that am present, here, watching the ecosystem seemingly perform for me.
 
But, the truth is, that this world will keep on turning with or without my presence, I am here but as a visitor whom the Sea has invited with ambivalence, seemingly uncaring of whether I am here nor there, because she knows, and I know, that while I am watching the sharks parade with ominous delight, taking in the sea coral so bright which pushes away the pain it could cause another who didn’t understand its potential, and the larger fish, whose species I do not know, yet who capture my eyes and imagination that I cannot stop but stare and be enthralled. 

No, I thank this Sea for willing me, for beckoning me in her own way. To envision that which she has to offer, the sanctity of herself open for inspection, just for me, just one set of eyes, that are not prying but are filled with ardour, accompanied by a heart which is so very amazed.
 
© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by PublicDomainPictures from Pixabay    

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