And the deep, green sea takes us
Drifting as a bit of flotsam, unconcerned with direction
Unperturbed by obligation or the sickly white hand of the
clouds
Breathing the salt spray, closing the eyes against the wind
Minute senses. Calloused by the raging waters of time
Waters that plunge here, there, in, then out.
Sensations that cannot be captured by the photo lens
Notions bound by fate but not constricted by it.
These ethereal beings, nebulous bodies that hang in the
corners
Of the thoughts of man, these nameless, faceless, voiceless.
They defy the natural laws and yet do not question them
These, the deep.
These the unknown unknowns.
And so we embrace them, and so we immerse.
We pull silently through the gray-scale day and entertain
We list in the sea of providence and pretend the sails pull
us so.
Drifters. Quietly
watching the sky. The horizon
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