I am not jealous of the rocks
that dwell deep in the ocean bed
they have nothing to covet;
nothing to look forward to
but for sore backs from laying stiff
under kelp beds in seagrass–
as threshing sea-doormats
— and perhaps of sand in their eyes
but I suppose I’m predisposed to
how heavy its shoulders must be
when my avant-garde gauge
is the emptiness I suffer
after yet one more mate left my bed
I met a starfish at the shore the other day
when my shoulders were laden with pity
and boy, was I surprised with the story she shared!
she named a rock in the intertidal zone
that dreamed about being a rock in Mt. Everest
where he’d lay under a female Juniper tree
in the forested zone, no less,
to wait for Juniper to drop him her berry-cones
“Don’t ask,” the pink starfish exclaimed,
rolling her eyes before she continued,
“but he is lots of fun and such a loving rock;
everyone respects him– we hope to keep him
grounded and curious.
We cannot make him change, but we can make him
grow aware of his unrealistic expectations,”
she said, and then she left with the tide
shouting I-don’t-know-what at me and that she’d
write her rock a love poem
How curious, thought I of the soliloquy
that even rocks have dreams to profess
curious-er still about the rock’s recklessness
to plant ideas into the heads of sea stars
Is that what life’s like at the bottom of the sea?
Today I met a rearing Adélie penguin pair
hit with a dire dearth of rocks to steal–
they have their eyes on the stones
at the bottom of the oceanic crust
but by golly, those are unwieldy
and immerse too deep to even try
“We’re the pebble poachers in these lands,”
the female told me, “with brave dreams of getting
our hands on those stones.”
“Stones that just lay on sea beds–
doing nothing,” offered the male.
Then, just as they came, they ran
off to write each other love poems.
I nodded, supposing I understood their plight.
Is it thievery when this couple
could put those rocks to good use–
and grant the rocks a purpose to be?
All for the sake of their offspring?
As I trudged home, my shoulders felt lighter
I didn’t know I didn’t know– but now I know!
Thinking hard about being jinxed by getting
the feted short end of the stick in life
which amounts to not having someone
to cohabit my bed with at night
Is my qualm due to quixotic expectations?
Do I need more lessons from the sea?
Perchance now I’m more ready to give it one more try
I’ll start today by writing to myself a love poem.
Photo by Rimvydas Ardickas on Pexels.com
Gift From The Sea was inspired by the poem Ocean’s Rocks. You can read more of Selma’s poetry at Selma.
I am sharing one more collaborative response poem tomorrow morning, and then will post one of my poetic responses each day the rest of next week, which will make 30 days in a row of poetry for the Nature Speaks of Love and Sorrow: 30 Poems in 30 Days Collaboration.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart to all of the amazing poets that participated in this collaboration, and to all of you for being here, reading, liking, and commenting on the posts. It’s been so much fun!
Stay tuned to this blog for a Nature Speaks of Love and Sorrow: 30 Poems in 30 Days Collaboration wrap-up post, and for details about my next initiative, by month’s end. Thank you.
Author, #1 Amazon New Release Nature Speaks of Love and Sorrow
Co-Author, #1 Amazon Bestseller, Wounds I Healed: The Poetry of Strong Women
Author of the Month, Jan/Feb 2022, Spillwords Press