Swimming is the Sound
The tide knows patience
As it washes the edge of the land
lapping the rocks so gently
Slowly softening their immobility
Into sand
Dolphins navigate the eddies
Of this erosion
In an effortless glide
Between air and ocean
A reminder of a time
When we swam ceaselessly
In the Sound
The dolphin breathes into
The solidity of our existence
And dissolves it
In the aquatic’s embrace
Joyful torpedoes
Imploding the divide
These wise souls
Always seem to be laughing
And really, who could blame them
If they weren’t occasionally laughing at us?
Weak lunged land dwellers with no echolocation
Who don’t leap or dive
And can only hear the middle ranges
And if someday we decode
their sonorous language of clicks and trills
I wouldn’t be surprised if one of them,
smiling like a true Buddha of the deep
said: You don’t know what you lost, dear cousin
When you left the Sound