November 5, 2011

Sea Grass


Rooted into the sand, roots grasping for sustenance, meaning.
Growing in harsh conditions, relentless determination to survive.
Sharp fronds, reaching for the sky - the glorious expanse of sky.

Buffeted by the wind, strong enough to bend and not break.
Sometimes whipped so hard to touch the ground.
But even then, the sand records the designs of beauty left behind,
evidence of testing and trial.

Gathering in clumps, there is life in numbers.
If for only a glance it would appear
that passage is forbidden.
But that is not so true – look closer;
paths cut, twisting through,
beckoning entrance into their midst
to know what they know, to wave with the wind.

Sea grass, golden and soft from a distance,
strong and formidable in truth,
is a welcoming home for the smaller, the weaker,
the vulnerable and the lost.

Holding down the earth
resisting wretched erosion,
the sea grass holds firm.

Oh, to be more like the sea grass.


1 comment:

Ari C'rona said...

You've painted a lovely analogy, my dear friend. Yeah, to be more like that...