Tuesday Poem - It Is All One Water

During this morning's routine browse around the internet I read a sobering and deeply moving article on Japan's Hydrangea Revolution some of which I'm copy-pasting here. . . 


". . . If Fukushima reactor unit 4 collapses, the catastrophe would degrade the lives of our descendants for hundreds or thousands of years. If we have nothing to explain to these girls* now, how will we explain the cause and efforts of an even larger catastrophe later?

The girl's perspective of life and nature has changed. 'Mountain, Forest, River, Sea. . .' these words now bring to mind radiation, not the dwelling place of any spirit or God. We live on a world of water. From space, our planet is blue with the oceans that cover 70 percent of its surface. As life on our planet comes from water, we too are formed from a single cell in the small sea of our mother's womb. Like the earth, we are 70 percent water. But something is terribly wrong when water, the worldwide symbol of purity, becomes polluted. The natural order is upside down when a drink of water brings disease instead of relief. When a heavy rain kills trees and lakes. When the source of life is poisoned as it flows from the ground. We are a tenant of the planet. We have no right to change the planet.

I like to suggest that our policy makers, nuclear power plant companies and nuclear scientists step back for a moment and think over as an individual, not an associate of any group, what our responsibility is for our children, grandchildren and our descendants for years to come. The Hydrangea Revolution is a push for true democracy in Japan. A free press is a critical pillar of any democracy. It is time for each member of the media to ask basic questions of the Japanese government and its companies and shed light on the true situation there. . . "

* Three girls from the Suma High School in the Fukushima prefecture who recently staged a theatre performance titled 'Unheard Voices'. Akio Matsumura, author of this article, wrote 'I was moved by their courage but found myself in despair over their grief and worries.'  (To read Matsumura's full article, please click here.)

It goes without saying that every one of us is (t)asked to 'step back for a moment' and contemplate our individual and collective responsibility towards our planet, 'our children, grandchildren and descendants for years to come. . . ' After all, what happens to one of us happens to us all - the Butterfly Effect - or, to quote 'our own' Marylinn Kelly (whose words are the title of this week's piece) -

 It is all one water - a finger in a tide pool brings our shores together.

*

I had intended to post another poem today but in light of this morning's reading, felt prompted to change tracks and post this 2011 prayer/meditation for Fukushima and our world's oceans instead. . . Some of you may remember this from around this time last year. I have created several versions; this one I submitted to the Pachamama Alliance for their 2011 Future Possibilities event. I find Kate's hand-dancing soothing and especially love that the narration for this short vid. is collaborative, with lines contributed by poet friends here and abroad, including several of you - Marylinn Kelly (USA - who blogs here), Pam Morrison (NZ - Cadence), Therese Clear (USA - Premium T), Scott Odom (USA - The Dishwasher's Tears), Kay Mackenzie-Cooke (NZ - Born To A Red-Headed Woman), Elisabeth Hanscombe (Australia - Sixth In Line) and moi. 

               IT IS ALL ONE WATER


              In the wide sound of the sea
                  the song of a vast adventure,
                  a music that follows flight
                  paths of blood rushing
                  through veins. And the roar
                  of the sea is the roar of our planet.

                  Salt. Spray. Ice. Sand.
                  Each wave a limb of the earth.
 
                  The oceans are hoarders
                  of holy mysteries, generous
                  to a fault; all heaving movement,
                  energy and gorgeousness, life
                  packed into every inch and drop of it.

                              Its drama! 
                              Its secrecy.

                  The way it carries the past
                  future and present in it.

                  Dream of the sea
                  and from its edge, gaze out
                  to the pencil-thin line of the horizon
                  where sky and water are one.

                  And the sea?

                            How it murmurs. 
                            How it murmurs.
           
                  It is all one water.

                  A finger in a tide pool
                  brings our shores together.

                       

                 

                

This week's editor on the Tuesday Poem hub is Wellington-based writer Tim Jones with the exquisite Why Don't You Talk To Me? by Alistair Te Ariki Campbell.  Please click on the quill to get to the hub and once there, explore the long list of poets who dedicatedly post a poem each Tuesday.