In A Watery Womb Poem by Sorin Serb

last night I dreamed:
I was a fish lost in the ocean.
The Last Master abandoned me
Hooked in the eternal cradle of tides and mist,
Surrounded by a world of whispers.
Here, among deserted tombs,
Even the whirlwind is
Soundless airless endless,
abysmal like a rose…

I was confined in a watery womb,
and on the vague stone was written
with a silky touch: expect desperately expect

A feather or simply a trout was haunting
the black clearness of the whirlpool,
and the sound of the body collapsing into the depth
was deafening
like a herd of locusts
populating my dreams
mastering my thoughts
Below me, where my dream was alienating
the springs,
The honey-trumpets dissolved
their brightness in the profound scar of the abyss -
That was the gate
guarded against us
by those levitating dancing shadows,
with their sharp fins and deep eyes

the gate to the gods.