The edge of the liquid space,
Is just before the air of the universal sky.
It’s deep dark and beautiful too
Yet so aquatically strange to the human eye.
It supplies it’s life for the large and small,
and it guards its own with a gigantic wet wall.
Filled with over flowing rivers-that once emptied into the sea,
Drowning out the mountains-that now sit quietly.
Valleys and rivers…are now empty to themselves,
Mountains are unseen now making up the shelves.
Fish swim over mountains—that bird not dare fly by,
and anything that falls down from up…will never see the sky.