Poetry Tuesday: "Salty Soup"

While the rest of the nation discusses ever more draconian abortion bills that seem to be zooming through various statehouses, I am still thinking of climate change.  I am concerned about these bills, to be sure, but I suspect that the Supreme Court will not overturn Roe v. Wade.

I think that climate change will shortly command all of our attention, in a way that a cancer diagnosis makes the other daily problems fade.  I'm not sure what I'm expecting first, but the weather report last week of higher daytime temperatures at the Arctic than here in South Florida did grab my attention.

I'm also thinking of some of my friends' Facebook pictures of beautiful beaches and lovely trips in boats.  One day, we'll tell our children about the times when we didn't fear the sea.

I've written about this idea numerous times.  Here's one of my favorite poems that I've written about this idea:

Salty Soup 

Once upon a time, before 

the sea became so enswamped 

with jellyfish, we swam 

in water so clear you could see 

the sandy floor and the salty 

shores beyond the horizon. 

We swam with fish that meant 

us no harm, fish striped 

with jewel-true colors. We swam 

with tanks on our backs 

and an assortment of bulky 

equipment which weighed 

us down on land but helped 

us stay submerged 

in the marine cosmos. 

A strange homecoming, 

even though we couldn’t stay 

without our heavy encapsulations. 

We felt our fluids expand beneath our skin. 

We sank like stones, 

our exhalations bubbling to the surface. 

Once we swam, I tell you, we did. 

We could live by the coast, harvest 

the oceans’ riches, venture 

forth on boats. Once we did not fear 

the sea. Once we swam in such peace 

that we longed to return to the salty 

soup from which we evolved.