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.
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