The salt spray laps at our shores
The same way it laps at yours,
Miles of land separate us
Yet unite us from bow to stern
Of our beloved state.
Your children are our children
Your loss is our loss.
As the current sends warm waters
Our way ever flowing,
Never changing, we must.
We must shift like our shore moves.
A dune one day and flat land the next.
The salt on our skin is not
The spray of the Atlantic or Gulf blue.
Today, it is our tears,
It is our fears. The relief and -
Overwhelming sadness that it’s
Not my child today and it should
Have never, ever been yours.
Or your husband, or your father
Or your son or daughter.
We must unite as the body of
Water flowing around and through us
Shift our mindset like the sand
Beneath us. We must fight.
We must adopt the attitude of
Our fearsome predators and bite
Down on that which resists change
And force it to see us. Force them
To acknowledge our fear.
To acknowledge our rage.
To acknowledge our pain.
We must demand more, accept less,
And rage when the boulders in our
Sand refuse to shift. We must
Rise up like our shorelines and
Swallow them whole.
Salt-life should never be the
Taste of tears on cheeks but
Smiles and sunshine in the sand.
We must protect the weak.