Mother of all the high-strung poets and singers departed,
Mother of all the grass that weaves over their graves the glory of the field,
Mother of all the manifold forms of life, deep-bosomed, patient, impassive,
Silent brooder and nurse of lyrical joys and sorrows!
Out of thee, yea, surely out of the fertile depth below thy breast,
Issued in some strange way, thou lying motionless, voiceless,
All these songs of nature, rhythmical, passionate, yearning,
Coming in music from earth, but not unto earth returning.
Dust are the blood-red hearts that beat in time to these measures,
My forest brave, my Red-skin love, farewell;
We may not meet to-morrow; who can tell
What mighty ills befall our little band,
Or what you'll suffer from the white man's hand?
Here is your knife! I thought 'twas sheathed for aye.
No roaming bison calls for it to-day;
No hide of prairie cattle will it maim;
The plains are bare, it seeks a nobler game:
'Twill drink the life-blood of a soldier host.
Go; rise and strike, no matter what the cost.
Fronde super mitram, & felici comptus oliva.
To the Lord Privy Seal
Contending kings, and fields of death, too long
Have been the subject of the British song.
Who hath not read of fam'd Ramillia's plain,
Bavaria's fall, and Danube choak'd with slain!
Exhausted themes! a gentler note I raise,
THE SEA! the sea! the open sea!
The blue, the fresh, the ever free!
Without a mark, without a bound,
It runneth the earth’s wide regions round;
It plays with the clouds; it mocks the skies;
Or like a cradled creature lies.
I ’m on the sea! I ’m on the sea!
I am where I would ever be;
With the blue above, and the blue below,
I often took over the ocean,
And wonder what's hidden from views
Then I think how wonderful it could be
If I could cross that ocean too
The wonders God created
Are scattered near and far
And I love to think about them
Wishing I was where they are.
They say that there's no place like home
And on this I must agree
The ocean is moved,
The wave laps at the shoreline,
The ocean returns
The salt attacks me,
I take in the surrealness,
It’s a pleasant sting
The wave is dismissed,
The wave draws back somberly,
She sells sea shells
By the sea shore
Where the mermaids dance
Behind the green glass door
She shouts she yells
By the sea shore
And the waves, they echo
a resounding roar
The sand under my feet, was like starting anew
A fresh start from all my past mishaps
Like every place I walked before... was wrong
Every step before was like stepping on the backspace
Wondering when I would take the right step
Wondering if I would ever take a step in the right direction
Why does the ocean help me realize, realize what I've been doing wrong
The ocean is such a peaceful place, a place where you can go
Below the surface of the sea
An ancient forest grows
Shafts of light from the brilliant sun
Illuminate what lies below
Khaki-colored kelp sway with grace
“I will never leave you my baby, I am your mom and now my priority is you.”
It was early March at the Norway Coast. The water temperature was at thirty two degrees Fahrenheit or zero Celsius. The ocean was still invitingly cool. If it would get warmer, the whole pod would take off, swimming to Antarctica where waters were much chillier. They had a choice and could make decisions, and were very smart creatures.
She felt big and knew that anytime now she would produce a being that she would love, cherish and protect. It was wiggling and struggling inside of her and she was pushing her baby out, head first. Most orca whales gave birth to their offspring tail first, rarely the way she did. She was spinning and swimming in circles, faster at times, pushing her baby out. At some point she looked like a drill bit switched on high if you looked at it directly. She felt stretching and pressure down below her stomach near her tail as she made few loud distinct sounds. Her group mates knew what was going on with her and let her be by herself. They were all around but in the distance, looking like dark shadows slowly moving around her. She pushed while spinning and pushed again and again. She felt pressure and pain subsiding and a little baby orca male was getting borne as she let him out to the new world.
She had carried him for about seventeen months, but that was her job being a good mother. She was protecting herself all this time and the group was also protective of her. Orcas have pods inside a group established and if you are a part of it, you always stay together like a family.
He came out and at one point was disoriented and confused by his surroundings and slowly, he started to process the environment he was in by taking in the murky and enormously big ocean space. His instincts were kicking in fast and he thought that he wouldn’t be able to keep up with them all the time. His head throbbed as he swam away from his mother. He propelled deep down and stopped. There was no ending to it and he could go and go as far as he could, he thought. A moment later he realized that this was not what he wanted. He wanted to be with her as much as possible, be part of her life, be around her and make her happy, be part of a family.