Ocean

Drifting forward through cerulean land.
Rushing by — what used to be mine.
All around me — endless sight,
so familiar — out of mind.

I'm so used to
the edges of this crystal dome
and the currents
that keep on changing every night.

I thirst
for sweet waters and the rain.
And I pray
for the storm and some gray,
just to throw me off,
just to sink me down,
so I could stare
into an underwater cyclone's eye.

Yet the Providence won't hear my cries,
so now silence and a gale-less ride
are all I am surrounded by.