The Ocean

I love the ocean but I fear it more.

Deep in blindness, down

Under pressure,

What lurks? What rests— preying

And living,

Residing among boiling

Hydrothermal vents.

Mysteries we will never know.

Never will name.

What relentless, war-crying

Serpents hide

In seemingly bloodless

Surface waters?

And the sea is grim below,

Yet haunting.

An uncharted other world

That surrounds us,

Slowly consuming the

Land we deplete.

On the surface, beautiful

And blue,

But of its truest form

In callous storms.