Up from the great and fathomless, sparkling sea,
Skimming the blue, that’s wide as the morning sky.
Tracing the curve of the earth, with translucent wings,
Caught in a silver arc are the fish that fly.
Shot against light, as pure and as stained as glass,
Chasing the lines, that stretch unreachably far.
Zithering over the waves till they’re out of sight,
Bright as a spark of life on a distant star.