They rise from the depths, tails breaking the surface, a choir carried on ancient currents.
They are the breath beneath the waves, the echo in dark waters, a call of awakening to the universe.
Their voices dive and ascend into the endless blue, where the boundary between sea and sky dissolves.
They sing of storms and whirlpools, to veil the truer depths— those unvisited by any human, sometimes unknown even to themselves, on an endless quest for a hidden chest, a treasure long ago swallowed by the deep.
They sing to the moon, which guides them with a silver trail of light. Wrapped in silence, they pass through secret lives unseen.
And there, in the deep, the treasure will open, releasing memories that rise upward, upward, to the surface— until they drift like clouds of cotton, adorning the sky.