Immigrant Aria

there they blow, there they blow, hot wild white breath out of the sea!

—D. H. Lawrence

To swallow new names like krill, dive.
You have few tides before you
return to motion. Once this shrine

was the abyssal plain. Once Empire
shackled you. Once you answered to monster,
to dragon, spewing steam, fire

bellowing in the furnace of your hide,
a migrant captured for brown skin’s
labor. Somewhere inside the darkness

where brews flame, a spirit hovers
over the deep. Once before Adam named
you illegal you snaked, breaking

into air. Spit out his poison, jaw-clap
the sea. With your aft-fin’s trailing edge
churn surface to milk. In the beginning,

you were formed with great light.

Rajiv Mohabir