They still have not found
The depth of it. Black and thick and slow
As tar, and dark as pitch.
We take for granted nautical distances,
Treaties, fishing quotas, the migration
Of sea turtles. Holidays. We cling to
The calculable. We picture it as we imagine
A map to lay it out, for us.
But once you’re out: in a humble little boat
Lilting with the waves, staring out so
Far form the horizon, you may find
It’s never been known. Go on: drop your oars.
Roll up one sleeve, and lean
To trace your fingertips across the water.
They still have not found it: but maybe,
It will find you.
I have always, even as a small, defenceless child, been lured to sea monsters. When you consider just how little of the oceans has been explored, and how very few species we have discovered, it can open the possibilities of many wonderful and terrible things. I still to this day occasionally look up tales of “true hauntings” at sea. Search the The Ourang Medan, a relatively recent ghost ship phenomenon.