From a deep blue sea

to a wide blue sky,

what it takes to fly is a life.

To the deep seafloor,

where a bubble’s born,

never reach the streams of light.

We had sprung up in the deep,

now floating in the sea,

where we’re drifting on waves and tides,

fluttering around the longing to be free,

we were told we’re meant to be,

only bubbles know how many times,

we wake memories to release

the power to rise.

​

As a bubble grows,

as a bead it glows,

scattering the light far and nigh.

To the surface soars,

as a raindrop falls

in an inverse world to the sky.

We had sprung up in the deep,

now floating in the sea,

where we’re drifting on waves and tides,

fluttering around the longing to be free,

we were told we’re meant to be,

only bubbles know how many times,

we wake memories to release

the power to rise.

​

We’re all afloat

all life long

rising to grow

burst and dissolve:

​

floating besides the sea,

leaving behind the water,

heaving an ocean-deep sigh,

(and) wispily flying high,

we are air up in the air,

not a bubble any more,

we are merging as we’re flying high,

​

fluttering around the longing to be free,

we were told we’re meant to be,

only bubbles know how many times,

we wake memories to release

the power to rise,

we wake memories to release

the power to rise.