Krill

My home resides amongst a midnight blue ocean, 
consuming me kindly under her soporific waves.

The tide is my mother, swaying me in her arms swaddled in cool velvet waters,
equally as strong as sensitive.

I turn under a wave and sink into the seabed,
Bubbles trickle up behind my neck and nest in my hair.

Underwater, I am worth nothing, I am at the mercy of land  
I am no bigger than Green algae or Elkhorn coral or a sardine.
It’s not humbling, it just is:

People are lovely worthless miasmas of being, and water is a mother of life and death,
sunken beared in allure, beauty and peace.