poem: clowning around/won’t you join me? – 12/03/22

the waves take me on a journey
where I’m lulled into a sense of security
and notes like gentle hands wash over me,
I am amazed and quiet,
there is nothing remaining above the surface,
a breath and I’m underneath,
the seaweed, coral, clown fish
are brighter than above-days,
my heart is pounding ecstatically,
once well-rested,
there’s so much to take in,
to see.

engineered cobwebs from
entangled jellyfish limbs,
mesmerising affray,
dilating metamorphic,
fluid heads, bodies,
passing my very way,
I become at peace with this sight
entranced at their careless might,
manners so poignant with each other
there’s nothing which escapes
my sight; gone under.

And further under, I bury myself in the
silt and sand,
mischievous with this land,
another clown fish passes, then
mum and dad.
Oranges brighter than witches’ cones,
I smile to myself,
they entertain, and I know
their intent is nothing to amuse,
they simply, casually amble,
stop, move.

How beautiful such a simple sight could be within
a quiet night under the sea,
so breathless, yet free,
won’t you accompany,
won’t you slip beneath waves,
won’t you join me?
© 2022 Lauren M. Hancock Poetry and Prose. All rights reserved.

Image from Unsplash.