Mother Ocean
Morrisville, NC
2020, Senior, Poetry & Spoken Word
“mother,”
my children would sing
folding their tiny frames into my foam
they watched me kiss their soft feet
giggled as they carved castles from the ground
for me to see
they worshipped my working hands
as I showered them with sustenance
and in the velvet night
they watched behind corners chiseled by quartz
drank visions of my tango with the moon
then they crawled into my azure belly
clung to the crooks of my swaying arms
first gasping out but eventually
they memorized mama’s perfume
rich salt punctuated with the gull’s cry
let it wash over their rounded cheeks
pulse across their bodies
and when they bent at my altar
to cry goodbye
I cupped their buckled knees
flush with healing scabs
and wished for my scent
to stay pressed into them
like immortal flora
then I lay alone
and wondered who could treat
any mother like this
as I watched those who
wrench oil from earth
and quench oozing greed
flex their mechanical claws
above my shifting expanse
their poison laughs
sealing the chamber
of greenhouse gas that
dragged my limbs upward
I rose
while my stomach kicked
from the deadened stares
of extinguished life within
my rhythm crushed by asphyxia
I cried out
and wondered who would hear
“mother,”
hearts beating feet marching
they ran to my sides again
for every breath they had held under my keep
was my soul breathing through them
they swam together
through the bustling streets of the world
roared with the voice of my waves
into government offices
flooded the choking monoliths
with their crashing swells
stormed the United Nations
carrying grievances for their mama
they stared down the barrel of hatred
unmoving and unflinching
until they surged forward with power
yielded it in the Paris Agreement
and blew away coal with its might
and yet they did not stop
for their spirits moved
with the undulating flow of my body
and finally
I began to breathe once more
knowing
my children had heard me
Works Cited
https://news.un.org/en/story/2019/09/1047052
Reflection
I am lucky enough to live in an area with ample access to the ocean, so I have always associated it with the happiness of my early childhood. Truly, the ocean raised parts of us, and it is this connection that inspired me to write the ocean as a mother. The climate change crisis has only highlighted the immense gift that the ocean is, as we realize the severity of what we are losing. However, I do not want this sense of loss to be the only message of my work—while writing about climate change is incredibly impactful, oftentimes it leaves the readers with a sense of hopelessness at the sight of such devastation. Instead, I wanted to draw upon the intense bond so many people, including myself, feel with the ocean, and assure the reader that this bond is incredibly powerful and has the potential for real change, if we only transform it into action. Reading this poem should make the viewer even more hopeful, as it aims to show the concrete changes young people who truly admire the ocean have made through legislature and changes in energy sources, two things I learned about. In addition, the unity the piece creates gives me boundless hope that there never will be a time where the ocean is not loved, and it also has inspired me to call my own representatives, asking for more action against climate change, as I know I am not alone in the fight.