Delight in liquid sea-green,
Washing pebbles
In transparent equality.
Solvent clear as air
And cool
To bathe the blood
And salve the sun,
Hot on the body.
Perhaps a metaphor
For transition
To other energy:
The ever blue
When we
Were nothing
In the seamless
Beginnings
When freedom
Was our own,
As was
Fluent, weightless buoyancy.
© Ben Truesdale and distilledvoice, 2015
