May We Inhabit The Earth
Hybrid prose poem
we are the tattered souls scattered along coastal waters of lost remembrances— broken open shells — nets casted, tangled with debris and a left behind flip-flop. knowledge of tongues long escaped through holes of our ancestor’s absence.
no longer do we cast our form to the dancing shadows of fish glistening in sunlight. we fell for the myth of man’s likeness… now a warm water blob expanding beneath forces limbless mammals to shore — an omen in plain sight that remains unseen.
we failed in protecting them!
made a beast of the deep!
— sectioned for parts —
caused sonar catastrophe!
fear forces us apart into separate spheres — seeking shelter in temples that promise protection from the demons we’ve dreamed. hate and love. death and birth. heaven and earth. human and…
but wait
do not forget
master and slave!
a hapless body lying exposed on the beach, encrusted with barnacles collected from the shallows of the sea speaks to an order, not concrete, but fluid / symbiotic / complete — now screeches the question: “who will become mortician of the sea?”
Breathe & Be Still ©2023
It is not my intention to challenge another’s faith but to question themes of duality and dominance (religion and politics are laden with them). And where there is duality one is always good, the other bad or one is dominant and the other inferior and therefore in need of protection/ governance.
Animals never needed our protection, they need for us to stop damaging our shared habitat. Isn’t it time we learn how to inhabit our earth with grace again?
A very special thanks to J.D. Harms and Melissa Coffey, the editors of Scrittura for keeping the creative gears spinning.
