It takes incredible strength
To survive in a world
Where you cannot breathe.

As soon as you are born,
It’s sink or swim
And the sea proves it’s not a joke.

You don’t fit anywhere.
In the winter, you flee the cold,
Taking refuge in the equatorial oceans.
In the summer, you flee the heat,
Moving back north.
Your migrations are endless
But you never cease.

There is nowhere you belong.
On land, you cannot move.
At sea, you do not breathe.
You are a child of both worlds,
And a child of none.

And yet, you don’t mind.
You swim as soon as you hit the surf.
You breathe and sigh,
Letting your air fountain in a column of mist.

In a way, you are stronger.
Only you know the unmitigated joy
Of the freedom of waves.
Only you can bask in moonlight,
Alone in the depths.

So you and your misshapen body,
The ungainly mass that flops in the sand,
Yet cuts with streamlined ease through your home,
Migrate off into the sunset only you can see.