An underwater ballad by Leslie Burke

I'm moving gently forward,

over the wild and beautiful

unexplored world below me.

I'm floating in silence,

and breaking it up

with the sound of my breath.

Above me, there's nothing

but shimmery light,

the place where I've come from

and will go back to when I am done here.

I'm diving.

I'm a scuba diver.

I'm going deeper 

past the wrinkled rocks and dark seaweed

toward a deep blueness

where a school of silver fish wait.

As I swim through the water,

bubbles burst from me

wobbling like little jellyfish

as they rise.

I check my air.

I don't have as much time 

as I need to see everything,

but that is what makes it so special.

Self-Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus 

by Leslie Burke (Bridge to Terabithia)

Capitolo 1: Nautical baby

I think my mom gave birth to me in the ocean.

You know those water births? Some said it is less painful. Heck, I don’t know; I’m not even married yet, let alone having a child. Anyway, HEY, I’m not going to talk about water births here.

Yes, one day I just went blank and this thought popped up in my head:

I think my mom delivered me in the ocean, underwater. 

I always feel I have a special connection with the sea. Holiday time to the beach always excites me. That feeling of having your feet buried within the soft khaki sand where you get a ticklish sensation in between your toes. And then getting your feet soaked up by the breaking waves. Hmm…what an experience worth killing for.