Poetry
Take Me Back to Wetlands
Take me back to the river,
where our weightless bodies flowed with the current.
Take me back to the lake,
where we dove to the bottom and swam in the reeds.
Take me back to the swamp,
where the trees rose from the muck, their roots reaching wide, tripping our toes.
They wanted us to stay a minute longer, to look where feet land,
because looking is so much more than seeing.
Magic happens when you stop, examine—
a civilization among nature, a world, masked from those who simply see.
The trees recycle our carbon enemy,
but some underwater weeds can do that even better.
The plants down here work just as hard as the trees,
but because unseen, they become unknown.
Processing heavy metals we humans dump into them.
Protecting their friends from these destroyers of biodiversity.
These plants keep the water fresh for friends that live here,
and provide habitats with food for unique creatures found nowhere else.
Where invertebrates prosper, life can be found.
Feeding the birds that soar, perch, and strut, nipping bugs that emerge from the water.
Those birds, in turn, support the life of a fox, a snake,
or fungi—those magical decomposers.
Along the way, we lost sight of protecting the lands needed to survive.
Humans have choked the land with their cement.
They pump the water away for “more important” matters.
Infrastructure grows too quickly,
in a grand competition for the best place to live.
When the rains are strong, city streets flood with water.
Waters that sweep away everything it reaches.
The destruction is massive,
and humans search for measures to preserve their homes.
But the best solution is the one they got rid of.
The wetlands that have absorbed excess water for thousands of years.
The wetlands that trap our carbon emissions.
The wetlands that allow life to prosper like nowhere else.
They are now few and far between.
Take me back to the pond,
where we watched the fish swim lazily in a weightless paradise under the sun.
Take me back to the stream,
that gurgled past the blooming wildflowers along the bank.
Take me back, take me back,
when wetlands were abundant and the land was still alive.
where our weightless bodies flowed with the current.
Take me back to the lake,
where we dove to the bottom and swam in the reeds.
Take me back to the swamp,
where the trees rose from the muck, their roots reaching wide, tripping our toes.
They wanted us to stay a minute longer, to look where feet land,
because looking is so much more than seeing.
Magic happens when you stop, examine—
a civilization among nature, a world, masked from those who simply see.
The trees recycle our carbon enemy,
but some underwater weeds can do that even better.
The plants down here work just as hard as the trees,
but because unseen, they become unknown.
Processing heavy metals we humans dump into them.
Protecting their friends from these destroyers of biodiversity.
These plants keep the water fresh for friends that live here,
and provide habitats with food for unique creatures found nowhere else.
Where invertebrates prosper, life can be found.
Feeding the birds that soar, perch, and strut, nipping bugs that emerge from the water.
Those birds, in turn, support the life of a fox, a snake,
or fungi—those magical decomposers.
Along the way, we lost sight of protecting the lands needed to survive.
Humans have choked the land with their cement.
They pump the water away for “more important” matters.
Infrastructure grows too quickly,
in a grand competition for the best place to live.
When the rains are strong, city streets flood with water.
Waters that sweep away everything it reaches.
The destruction is massive,
and humans search for measures to preserve their homes.
But the best solution is the one they got rid of.
The wetlands that have absorbed excess water for thousands of years.
The wetlands that trap our carbon emissions.
The wetlands that allow life to prosper like nowhere else.
They are now few and far between.
Take me back to the pond,
where we watched the fish swim lazily in a weightless paradise under the sun.
Take me back to the stream,
that gurgled past the blooming wildflowers along the bank.
Take me back, take me back,
when wetlands were abundant and the land was still alive.