Let’s stop reading about God.
We will never understand Him.

Come up from those depths
where Prince Axel’s wonder-fish
opens its mouth to illuminate the way;
where the long-nosed chimera
with its venomous spine swims, searching.

Climb out of that claustrophobic vessel,
heavy iron bubble.
Time to leave the blacksmokers,
abandon the tube worms and Pompeii worms,
wriggle away from the hot chemosynthetic womb,
the rapturous, smothering dark.

Instead, snorkel along the surface,
flicker in clear aqua light
with porpoises and flying fish,
clownfish, look-down fish, angels,
the corals in their colors.
Tumble with the humpback,
skim through the right whale’s heartshaped blow.

Try to live
if only for a little,
above that cauldron of cold,
all slippery buttery clay and globigerina ooze,*
scavenge and iron wreck.

With the gentle manatees
cruise the warm estuaries,
vibrissaed noses like floating coconuts
all in the shallows
of thick wet green.

* also radiolarian ooze and pteropod ooze.  The “slippery buttery” description comes from “The Abyss” by Prentice K. Stout  in a Rhode Island Sea Grant Fact Sheet.

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