Paradise Island Dreams

A reflection for the week in which the future of much of the seabed 

is under international discussion

Darkness stretches to the horizon,

speckled grey reflects a struggling moon;

close to my invisible feet

a gravelly surge tells me soon

the waves will undermine

the tiny promontory where I stand;

steady for now but in only minutes

my dreamer’s knoll will be engulfed

in the unpredictably shifting sand

I will stay, I will stay for a while

transfixed by the infinite

rhythm of the waves.

Tonight the ocean’s gentle swell

masks the latent violence

that makes it the realm of innumerable graves.

Transient glints from the downcast sky

cause me to reflect;

there, beyond my constrained eye

and my pedestrian imagining

are deep trenches,

mighty sub-surface mountains,

scintillating reefs;

mortuaries - millions of shells, no longer in use:

slithering predators, giving no relief

to myriads of fish of dizzily entrancing hues.

And in the deeper, deeper waters

sinister gyres

where we, ultimate predators,

ultimate polluters

cast plastic, glass and toxic refuse

unthinkingly

from boats, shorelines, rivers and streams

adding to the natural death toll:

so rapidly, all too rapidly

we poison everyone’s
paradise island dreams.

Other ‘Care of the Planet/ Care of our Common Home can be found HERE