Touching the Atlantic

As I lunged headlong into its warmth,
So I mused upon this ocean's past:
The divide between old and new,
A separation affording comfort,
A witness to the quest for freedom,
Great surf pounding wind-swept shores.

The water welcomed me in its energy,
Embracing me, albeit roughly,
While I thought of old ships lying wrecked,
Long since savaged and unsalvageable;
Feeling the urge to battle out further,
Only to hear the nannying lifeguard's whistle.

The ocean seems so vast, its horizons unbroken,
But all around me are invisible connections:
The paths of the great silver birds,
The tracks of fibers binding businesses,
Seeking to shrink this global village pond;
While here, on its western edge, I feel so small.