To a Young Diver

So long, silversides.
The lips of the sea
close over you.

I watch you shimmer
and vanish into
the inverted garden

where minnows flock
like sparrows
and tiny pods of air

sequin the powdered
shoulders of
the reef.

Deeper: obsidian walls
flicker with mystery—
fish are flame, coral sways

to the throb of
the young planet
in its skin.

Down there
you are only a fold
in the water, a mote

in time yesterday spreads
beneath you, silent
as bedrock

while the future presses
upward: a helix rising
through Precambrian blue

brightening
to gem turquoise
as you break the surface

streaming gold, festooned
with your tangled cargo,
your frieze of stars