The Ocean

 I was born in the ocean depths,

Where darkness wrapped me around like a blanket,

Where there were lives as much as deaths,

Where I could float as I was, naked.

You wouldn't know, but my birth place had it all.

At dawn, tiny little fellows would glow near the surface.

At noon, the sun would give just enough warmth for the cold, dark depths.

At dusk, the sky would caress the tranquilizing motion of the water.

It had everything. And it was enough.

But my ocean was, and still is, unknown to most,

For they fear the water and the possibility of getting lost.

After all, their lives happen on the surface,

Where the sun isn't as gentle and sets your skin ablaze.

It had everything. And it was frightening.

And fate, like a cruel despot, brought me to them.

I was amazed by their gigantic ship, which pierced through the tides.

They were shocked by my fins, which flowed along the sea current.

So they saved me, for they told me I was drowning.

Because I looked like them,  they thought I was one of them.

So they taught me everything I needed to know to live on land.

They taught me how to walk.

They taught me how to talk.

They taught me how to think and dance and pray and write.

So I walked, and I talked, and I thought, and I danced, and I prayed, and I wrote.

Before I knew it, the land was my home.

Years went away, and so did my fin.

And so did my memories of my birth place.

Tonight, twenty years since the encounter, I shut my eyes.

And for the first time ever I've just realized that it's dark.

Like there's nothing around but darkness.

Like you're gently wrapped by the unknown.

Like drowni- no, swimming.

Wait, when did I forget? How did I forget?

Deep inside me there's an ocean.

It is dark, unknown, and frightening.

But Lord, how I miss diving into the depths below.