Bubble

You trembling sphere, you quivering world:
You rise toward the waves.
You are anxious, submarine beauty,
As the scene you ascend sleeps in aquatic silence,
Laden with gravity and fear.
But still you rise.
When you arrive, you will not retain
Your form, like a retired bullfighter
Wearing his cape to breakfast.
You will dissolve, fearlessly,
Into the pure fullness of your being.
You will be sky, wind, breath
As I breathe you in, tortured by the mysteries
Of land and sea—and suddenly,
As I sit scratching my cheek, my heart rises
In defiance of my anchored emotions.