What Was Once Natural

They were careful, planting the seagrass
in neat little rows, just far enough
that the tender shoots were in no danger
of a clumsy, fatal step. A lesson in hope
that enough will survive
to hold the sand for a few more seasons
of ocean storms,

What was once natural, these spikes
of plants with roots that somehow live
in the salt and tides, is no longer automatic.
We have trampled the only thing that holds
the beaches, and so now, it is work
and care, fences and ribbons to save
the sand from those of us who love it too much,
too blindly that we trampled,
murdered, the magic that held it all together.

Will they survive? These small plantings
in their rows, protected by sand fences
and pleas on small signs to give these tiny lives a chance?
Or we continue, so sure of our rights
to walk and trample what we will,
until the very thing that brings us here
is washed way.

About this poem

About seagrass and nature in general. About morals and faith and ethics. civil and uncivil society. About the lives of tender people all around us

There is a reason most poems have multiple meanings. Everything is connected.

Be blessed. Bless others.

Tom