Notes About The Poem
There is a splendor watching colorful fish in the oceans.
Journey of a Lifetime
From sun-dappled shallows, clear and serene,
Where sea-whips did dance and seagrass was green,
Swam Finnegan Fin, a small wrasse of renown,
With dreams that the sandbars simply couldn't drown.
"The ocean," he mused, "though I see its bright edge,
Extends to a drop-off, a monstrous great ledge."
"What lies past the place where the light starts to wane?"
The thought swam around in his small, finny brain.
He wiggled a wave to the sandbar's small host,
The Blennies and Gobies that live near the coast.
He flipped on past hermits with colorful homes,
Then struck out for current where the bigger fish roam.
The water turned cobalt, a shimmering deep,
Where the seafloor was sloped, no longer so steep.
He met a great school, a silvery flash,
With a bright, cheery, "Pardon," and a little tail splash.
"Ah, greetings, good fin," did a silvery one say,
"We're Pacific Bluefin Tunas, on migration today.
The shelf's quite a swim, a considerable trek,
Don't dally too long near that old Spanish wreck."
"Just looking, just seeing," said Finnegan true,
And they rocketed forward into the deep blue.
With scales like split lightning, they powered away,
A shimmering force, defying the day.
Then he met a bright ghost, so elegant and grand,
The Mandarin Dragonet, drifting o'er sand.
With its patterns of purple and orange and green,
The most intricate painting that Finnegan's seen.
"Greetings, bright gem of the coral-reef edge,"
Waved Finnegan Fin near a small coral ledge.
The Dragonet, Coy, with a flicker of light,
Replied with a shy nod, a spectacular sight.
Next up, a great sail cut through the current’s own might,
The Indo-Pacific Sailfish, a warrior of light.
Its dorsal fin high, like a dark, royal crest,
With a spear on its nose, put other fish to test.
"Beware the black deep, little traveler of wrasse,"
Boomed the sailfish as shadows began to trespass.
Finnegan, awestruck, just gave a quick bob,
As the sailfish pursued a great sardine-packed blob.
He swam past a reef where the Moorish Idols played,
In black, white, and yellow, a grand cavalcade.
With trailing long filaments, ribbons of grace,
They’ve woven a dance in that sun splattered space.
"Join us for a twist," they did cheerfully sound,
But Finnegan knew where his destiny was bound.
"The edge is my goal," he replied with a flick,
Though their dance, he admitted, was a marvelous trick.
A Regal Angelfish, clad in gold and deep indigo,
Did float with a dignity no other fish could show.
"Be safe in the blue, small explorer of night,"
For the angles of shadows were starting to fight.
Finnegan watched her, so calm and serene,
A living royal standard, the prettiest seen.
With a swirl and a bow, she continued her grace,
Leaving a regal light in that vast open space.
The water was cool, and the light was a haze,
Past schools of bright Chromis and great starry rays.
He knew he was close, for the pressure grew tight,
As a sandy plateau caught the last of the light.
He reached the great shelf, the end of the known,
Where blue became black and the light was just grown.
The edge was so sharp, like a mountain’s grand peak,
And Finnegan stared, far too breathless to speak.
The sand on the ledge was glittering pearl,
And the world below him, in a vast, mighty swirl.
There were strange new creatures, with lights that did bloom,
Like fireflies of silver in a vast, silent room.
He stared for a moment, his tiny heartbeat,
A symphony played at his small, wrasse-wrasse’s feet.
A sense of profound wonder, of knowledge gained whole,
The great continental shelf had touched on his soul.
He saw that the dark wasn't empty or cold,
But a kingdom of silver and shimmering gold.
Though the sun couldn't reach to the floor of the deep,
The ocean had lanterns it promised to keep.
He carried the spark of a thousand small stars,
To light up his home on the bright sandy bars.
Then turning tail gently, on current he'd drift,
His journey completed, his small soul a-lift.
The path back was easy, a joyous retreat,
To greet every friend on each watery street.
He saw the bright Angels, now dim in the gloom,
And the Moorish Idols, who still had their room.
He was small, very small, a bright speck in the deep,
But a secret was his that his small heart would keep.
From the shallows he’d swam, past the great coral wall,
To see the shelf’s end, and to witness it all.
The ocean was vast, a world of his own,
From the sharp, shallow edge to the deep midnight zone.
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