Soft waves tiptoeing to the horizon,
With the poise of a ballerina.
Flowing by the wind’s motherly nudges.
Till the hook is visible in the midst of the abyss.
Slowly sinking into the darkness,
Gravitated to the seraph’s gills,
Latching onto it.
Till the divine ascension, a gradual reeling in.
A force of nature, ready to be reckoned with.
The imposing wings surfacing from the depths,
Arise with a majestic lift.
Whilst wild winds surge.
Forever wayward –
With the freeing sound of emerging from underwater.
Everything is resonant and clear.
Hear. Here.
Flapping off the world’s grips –
With the jangling sound of metallic,
Clickety-clacking away – forever.
As the gales swoosh forward.
Sunlike serenity enters the innards of the seraph,
Fluttering over the world with the force of a tornado.
Aiming at the target of daybreak with a bow and arrow.
Wild and wishful like the waters. Unearthed - but not discovered.