"the way worms in the garden tunnel ceaselessly so the
earth can breathe and bees ransack this world into being."
Worms have a special place in my heart due to their diligent,
unglamorous, labor beneath the surface, in the dark.
There are mothers for everything, and the sea is a mother too,
whispering and whispering to us long after we have stopped listening.
This wants to break my heart into tiny pieces. The grief of
how the sea is treated...as a dumping ground for debris by the ton,
is constant and heavy, yet, I keep telling myself we can heal this.
We can turn things around...listen to the whispering...
hear the message from the deep...alter the trajectory
and restore healthy balance.






