Fish Tank

Fluorescent azure, emerald leaves  

steadily bob up and down, staying in rhythm with the

perpetual hum of the filter, spattering water up against the glass.

The rainbows, stripes, and marbling cloak each fish,

their colors intensified by the faux sunlight cascading

onto the salt and pepper rocks.

Panicked, they flash and dart

to hide within the translucent panes as I enter the room.

Admiration towards the naivety of their dependence

swells internally as I watch them return to their peaceful world,

lulled back to the tranquil floating

by the comfort of their confines –

suspended as if invisible strings are laced up behind them

dancing them up and down, up and down

like a marionette with a slow, hypnotic tempo,

controlled by their provider.

With the shades drawn and the room dark,

the only lights are the radiant

beams bathing the bottom of the tank.

I sit at the foot of my bed, staring:

mesmerized by the harmony,

spellbound by the musical purr,

entranced by the ambience.

But the persona of this ever-changing biosphere

measures beyond what the eye can see.

The eye never notices the prism as a whole,

only the quintessence;

it takes time to appreciate

the metaphorical verve that adheres

to this simple space. So often we appraise others by their

superficial facets, rather than spending time delving within

ourselves to notice their inherent beauty.