how bemusing the view through bubbles of my ocean
clear on sunny days, cloudy at times, with strong gusts occasionally
misty cool, yet noisy and stormy on some nights so scary
on deathly quiet days, peace turns to boring
feats of extraordinary aerobatics seem to be a nice distraction
once a week, torrents flow by, removing some of us accidentally
splashes of colours play out as we unite to feed
a feast for sore eyes
those bubble blowing contests to express our needs are futile
or not, we cannot know, or even if we are heard
tsunamis seem designed to refresh our thinking on who we depend on
collapsing and death traps unpredict a normally boring existence
if not for the community of unique fish like us who are aliens
and yet are migrants now resident
there is no normal, while we have needs sold to us by
bubbles of discontent only, delivered by the clueless among us
some worth comparing, rest not investing
all the pain is temporary, as a matter of time is
only what we make of it
who we make from it
how we make it for
all else is a matter of fish food
sand and rocks
