Our only hope is—
phosphorescence
as night descends over the ocean.
Plankton glow like little lanterns
strung over a patio.
They blink on and off
a wavelength of
forgiveness.
I long to drift on the sea
with pulsating stars above
bioluminescence below
and be cream filling
amid all this light.
The ocean, a high vibration—
phytoplankton, lantern fish,
comb jelly, giant inky squid.
Each form infinitely
radiating genius.
I want the world to phosphoresce,
bubble up with light amid the ravaging
of nations, the unrest of a pandemic,
the injustice of politics.
Can we learn from these creatures
or do we drown in depths of separateness?
Can we rise to the surface and hold fast
emitting our own little beam of light?
The poem first appeared in Young Raven’s Literary Review (2020).
—
Terri Glass lives among redwood and black bear near Crescent City, CA. A writer of essay, poetry and haiku, some of her work has appeared in Eastern Iowa Review, Fourth River, About Place, California Quarterly, Young Raven’s Literary Review, and many anthologies, including Wild Gods, Fire and Rain: Ecopoetry of California, and Earth Blessings. An author of three poetry books, her most recent is Being Animal from Kelsay Books. See www.terriglass.com
