Oceanography

Some say we came 
from the sea 
and some can name 
the way 
we shall return: 
We burn, we burn 
at the end of a giant cable. 
Lowered, we bend 
then are able 
at the last, 
the final blast, 
to freefall. 
One scuba knot 
is all 
until caught 
in giant cranium 
arches—manganese, uranium? 
Who shall reveal 
the purpose 
of the yellow eel, 
that green porpoise?

Who created the bright 
pink cod that lies 
without light 
but with wide eyes 
in a tangled bed? 
That tree ahead 
is hung with beads for what 
religious holiday? 
Sheltered in that 
hut of coral clay 
what new babe wails? 
Shall we know all? 
or join the fleet 
of tall 
tentacles, wedged 
together 
clamped against 
the weather, 
steeled, wrenched 
out of all knowing, 
seablowing.