Depth

I am not aware of colour here,

Deep beneath the waves.

For if light touches anything,

It swiftly meets its grave.

“Colourless?” they ask me,

in a voice hitched with a lull.

“That sounds so very bleak and sad.

Underwater must be dull.”

“Dull?” I ask myself then,

While staring at them on the shore.

“The depths may not have colour,

But they offer so much more.

“Dive down with me to the bottom,

Until you hear the crackle of the sand;

Until even light is swallowed whole,

And you can’t remember land.

Black in all directions.

This cold darkness like a screen.

Black outside and black within.

Not a colour to be seen.

Now, close your eyes and listen.

And push away your fear.

I know that you cannot see,

But tell me what you hear.

I can hear a dozen tints,

In the whooshing of the waves.

I can decipher a hundred hues,

listening to currents in sea caves.

I can spy a thousand shades,

In the voices of the sea.

I can sing a million colours,

as I call for my family.

See them rise towards the air,

Ascending from the depths.

See them squint against the light,

As they surface for a breath.

Too much colour, too much light.

It hurts a fragile eye.

So, back into the black we sink,

Away from that blazing yellow sky.

Where light and colour don’t exist,

From your vision you’ll be freed.

Here, our colours are our ancient songs.

A voice and ear are all you need.