Ocean Harvest

We cannot afford to lose our sanity now The graves have grown ears. They listen and hear our sobbings Feed on them in the cemeteries as if they were holy meals, Communion prompt for resurrection. Tombstones twisting and turning over the crumbs stashed in piles, over billions of hungry bodies and bones. The rivers and water banks hiss with so much deceit we cannot handle it. We are lured into planting our seeds into the oceans. Sowing into sand. Hoping that harvest in the sea sees no season, Never ceasing to sow our hope in the deep Stargazing But at the sky's reflection on the waters Where our eyes await for nations to bloom. Poetic Rea.