Wet dreams

I dream of seas, a blue-smoke glow surrounds me as I sink below the churning tides, and I am found or foundering or drowned. Awash in multicolored shades, I dive, pale ghost, beneath the waves, descend with the spray of sun to depths that swallow sea-washed light, ballet realms of lissome beings rich with song and ocean sway. I watch as whale calves undulate, their fat black rubber bodies glide along the unseen curves and ways of currents, until, brought up short by mother bulk and wary eye, they submit to nudge and slide of anxious love. And there I hide, a sea-sprung wraith lost to sun but finding faith, a glimmer in a great black eye, rising through the depths of night to burst into pellucid sky.