I paddle in untouched oceans.

Cavernous shelter,
open-jawed rock
insists upon entry,
demanding deference.
Nature's superstructure
shielded from wind and sun
mandible locked in rocky stacks.
 
     
Kayak slips forward,
fluid with ocean power
lifted on a wave,
rocks squeeze
oars narrow
passage enables
tide to plunder beaches,
the argy bargy
of jostling waves
echoing
around me
yet
each sweet
rhythm of sound
rises to greet me
politely.
 
   
Rocks protrude,
leaping out of darkness
leaning inwards
to shake my hand.
I lie back
squeezing through
gazing up
lichen-gnawed
sandstone
stripped white
curves
arching
to open
oar anchors
twist
spin to see
crepuscular rays
spear
shadowy depths.
 
     
Diffused,
rippling sunlight
slants bright
colouring this sea
emerald green
tap dancing
beside
black corners.
 
     
Outside,
sun overwhelms colour
a harbour seal bathes in sunlight
on basalt
observing our quiet advance.
Beneath us,
the kelp forest
reaches up for the light
offering
tough-cored harvest
marinaded in sea salt,
exponential growth,
seeds to
pop,
squirting ocean jets,
red and purple anemones
tendrils swaying in time
to the tidal beat,
garibaldis flit between trees,
swirling orange.
 
   
A small red lobster
swims bright
heralding El Niño
ribbons of warmth
running through the water
surf shushing the rocks.