Edited by Richie Cuthbertson, Sunday, 1 Oct 2023, 14:16
Ocean Spirits. Painted by the author, Asoka
The Sea is Dying
A poem — In memory of the weird and wonderful creatures that once inhabited the ocean here.
Marine life has all but disappeared. Once this ocean was teeming with it. Now it’s like a watery desert. A graveyard. Holding the Spirit memories of a myriad creatures that once inhabited it.
The curse of Over-fishing The industrial trawler.
Dredging and salmon farming.
Pollution of mammon.
Hungry seabirds die with stomachs full of plastic waste. Their feathers and bones wrapped in rotting seaweed and tangled up fishing line.
Shellfish are dying, and the numbers of molluscs grow fewer.
I place my hand on the water and channelling the aliveness within I wish the ocean well. For life to thrive in her again.
Painted by the author, Asoka
Weeks later, I felt hope.
Schools of baby fish swam next to the seawall. Mackerel, an eel, some dogfish, and a flounder, too. I saw a hermit crab and a starfish — haven’t seen those in years. Excited, I went there every day to watch them.
But weeks later, They’re now mostly gone. Many are dead. And my hope with them.
Why does this modern world have to cause so much harm?
Why can’t we live with care and respect for the other beings we share this planet with.
This rare precious jewel of life Spinning in the cosmos.
The Sea is Dying
Ocean Spirits. Painted by the author, Asoka
The Sea is Dying
A poem — In memory of the weird and wonderful creatures that once inhabited the ocean here.
Marine life has all but disappeared.
Once this ocean was teeming with it.
Now it’s like a watery desert.
A graveyard.
Holding the Spirit memories of
a myriad creatures
that once inhabited it.
The curse of
Over-fishing
The industrial trawler.
Dredging and
salmon farming.
Pollution
of mammon.
Hungry seabirds die
with stomachs
full of plastic waste.
Their feathers and bones
wrapped in rotting seaweed
and tangled up fishing line.
Shellfish are dying, and the
numbers of molluscs grow fewer.
I place my hand on the water
and channelling the aliveness within
I wish the ocean well.
For life to thrive in her again.
Painted by the author, Asoka
Weeks later, I felt hope.
Schools of baby fish swam next to the seawall.
Mackerel, an eel, some dogfish, and a flounder, too.
I saw a hermit crab and a starfish — haven’t seen those in years.
Excited, I went there every day to watch them.
But weeks later,
They’re now mostly gone.
Many are dead.
And my hope with them.
Why does this modern world
have to cause so much harm?
Why can’t we live
with care and respect
for the other beings
we share this planet with.
This rare precious
jewel of life
Spinning
in the cosmos.
It’s their home too.
-Asoka