The Waters by Walt Whitman

The world below the brine. / Forests at the bottom of the sea -- the branches and leaves, / Sea-lettuce, vast lichens, strange flowers and seeds -- the thick tangle, the / openings, and the pink turf, / Different colours, pale grey and green, purple, white, and gold -- the play / of light through the water, / Dumb swimmers there among the rocks -- coral, gluten, grass, rushes -- and the / aliment of the swimmers, / Sluggish existences grazing there, suspended, or slowly crawling close to / the bottom: / The sperm-whale at the surface, blowing air and spray, or disporting with / his flukes, / The leaden-eyed shark, the walrus, the turtle, the hairy / sea-leopard, and the sting-ray. / Passions there, wars, pursuits, tribes -- sight in those ocean-depths -- / breathing that thick breathing air, as so many do. / The change thence to the sight here, and to the subtle air breathed by / beings like us, who walk this sphere: / The change onward from ours to that of beings who walk other spheres.