Sea bronzes through tides
like shadows on the swimmer’s face
as he thrusts past the waves,
convulsively gobbling air.
Basalt bricks line the bay,
his water walk of freedom, baptism of salt.
Schools of fish congregate near the shore,
eager to nip naked ankles.
Clouds cluster at the golden firmament,
forming pools of inchoate moisture,
drenched in incipient storms, bursting
with downpours, torrents, floods.
The swimmer muscles into depths,
dives far to the seafloor, grasps relics
of living coral. Silver souvenirs. Above,
wavy reflections of the world’s bright inanity.
Washed free of sin, absolved of all
catastrophe, nature nurtures souls
clothed in flesh, yearning to rise
into stone: monuments of eternity.
Splashing through currents thick as grass,
the swimmer surges, falls back, relaxes
into a spell of inward buoyancy. Bobbing
like a lure, he floats idly by, nearly bronzed.