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anjana-raoPoems
I. Bless the salt, not from tears but from the water from the air from the Spartina grass that laps it all up. Bless the Plough mud, full of nutrients, exfoliants, that'll have you sinking, sinking, sinking if you dare to enter. Bless the beach. Bless every shell, broken and whole, still beautiful. Bless every dead jellyfish I saw washed up on the shore, managing even in death, and still deserving of life. Bless the dolphins who've made this place home. Bless every pelican which must hunt relentlessly, which must eventually die for the hunt. Bless the Carolina Gold, which in the end, tasted like regular rice. Bless the history of this place, the good and the bad and the ugly. May we not forget any of it. II. Remember. Remember what t felt like to feel toes in sand, salt in hair, cold, cold water lapping at feet. Look at a shell and make it mean more than a vacant home. Remember the hunger of wanting to know everything about this place. Take that hunger back North, where you must eventually go. Remember what it felt like to move your body to see something other than city streets and bars. It sounds cheesy, but you need nature more than you know. And you may never come back here, but remember you can always find it. Find it.
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May 30, 2020
May 30, 2020 at 6:41 PM UTC
Charleston, SC
I. Bless the salt, not from tears but from the water from the air from the Spartina grass that laps it all up. Bless the Plough mud, full of nutrients, exfoliants, that'll have you sinking, sinking, sinking if you dare to enter. Bless the beach. Bless every shell, broken and whole, still beautiful. Bless every dead jellyfish I saw washed up on the shore, managing even in death, and still deserving of life. Bless the dolphins who've made this place home. Bless every pelican which must hunt relentlessly, which must eventually die for the hunt. Bless the Carolina Gold, which in the end, tasted like regular rice. Bless the history of this place, the good and the bad and the ugly. May we not forget any of it. II. Remember. Remember what t felt like to feel toes in sand, salt in hair, cold, cold water lapping at feet. Look at a shell and make it mean more than a vacant home. Remember the hunger of wanting to know everything about this place. Take that hunger back North, where you must eventually go. Remember what it felt like to move your body to see something other than city streets and bars. It sounds cheesy, but you need nature more than you know. And you may never come back here, but remember you can always find it. Find it.
Written March 12, 2020
#charleston#travel
Written by
anjana-rao
May 30, 2020
May 30, 2020 at 6:41 PM UTC
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