Here is a nice little poem by my old friend Pablo Neruda:
like the mollusk in the phosphorous sea.
In me the crusty salt resounded
and formed my singular skeleton.
How to explain - almost without
the blue and bitter rhythm of breathing,
one by one the waves repeated
what I sensed and trembled with
until salt and spray formed me:
the wave's rejection and desire,
the green rhythm which at its most secret
raised up a transparent tower.
It kept that secret and all at once
I felt that I was beating with it,
that my song was growing with the water.