The ocean is cool and blue and infinite.
Clouds of coral drift, seaweeds trailing lacy fingers,
Sand, coarse and dun, sifting and shifting,
Silver bubbles spiral dizzily upwards.
Lower down, the water deepens into silky midnight,
The haunt of the great, gentle beasts of the depths.
Room to stretch and grow and live.
The whale sings her mournful tune,
There in the great, dark silence.