Between two massive igneous
formations rests a turquoise cove with ocean waters warmed to a Bermuda summer
glow.
Ten thousand years of blue
incessant waves have undercut the old caldera stone to thunder crashing with
each coral tidal lightning show.
I'm in the water with my
thirty-something year old daughter and we're snorkeling and looking at the
unknown world
beneath the surface of the sea.
It's paradise revisited for me.
That's when I saw the angel fish,
or what I like to call an angel fish, although a little later on I'm told it's
just an everyday Bermuda sea chub.
You see they change their colors
like a mood ring, silver being their default, and black their warlike tint.
But white is their harmonious and
peaceable embodiment.
Amazing, like an underwater
Prospero, I am conjuring a show that never happens, although I know this
spontaneity is looking
through this looking glass and
seeing far into the past when my Miranda came to being helping with my seeing,
like this angel fish of my
imagination, focusing a world of waves into a sea of self-awareness.
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