The aquarium's tapestry of colour and light

15 September 2015

Aquarium the jelly fish are fringed silk shawls floating on a breeze or pulsing like parasols adrift on puffs of water wind the anemones are embroidery samplers lavish and complex with every stitch a living illustration fancy work in torus shapes of finest silk and satin with daisy chains of white crochet like collars worn by rich Elizabethans lace and velvet tucked and pleated pastel-coloured with tufted pennant tendrils trailing undulating in the slow surge the ebb and flow of zephyrs the coral is not calcified not brittle hard as bone but tender flesh with swelling bulges of throbbing tissue rucked and ruched or bunches and bunches of bubbles like grapes dense drupes of transparent fruits that swell and sway in a rhythm like breathing the prettiest fish are fabric for blouses made of silk in white and black and beige and palest green the patterns subtle vivid clean anapainna of the Amazon is carved of solid silver its head a sculpture all engraved with ancient calligraphics its long body is a space ship tracing a slow course through thick space gliding past stars suspended in time-warp density the sea-horses drift with tails straight stiff until touching a stem makes them curl and grip the way that babies make a fist tethered by their tails they float inflexible as wood little statues carved in curves like idols from far-off foreign temples in a world where all is silent peaceful gentle The Lights I was born remembering a place Where friends were love, clear lights who shared my mind. On Earth I searched and searched but couldn't find Them anywhere. I loathed the human race Who’d stolen me from home, and studied space, The outer realms where galaxies unwind Throughout the blackness, and the inner kind Where worlds can come and go without a trace. I once believed that darkness was the rule, And that the lights were few and far between. But facts are facts — the black is only seen Because the lights are there. What sort of fool Would close their eyes on all that's warm and bright, In protest at the loneliness of night?

Edith Speers is a Canadian born poet, teacher, editor and publisher who manages Esperance Press in Dover, Tasmania.

Aquarium image by Shutterstock.

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ARTS AND CULTURE

The aquarium's tapestry of colour and light

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