A poem from Pescha through Sarah
Pescha insists that the original title is maintained.

The Ocean Is Our Mother

The ocean is our source
From her we gain our lives
We carry her in our bodies
In the blood's pulsating force.

The unborn child is confined
By the oceanic fluid
Safe within the holder
Evolution has designed.

Take me to the seashore now
To smell her salty scent
To hear her peaceful song
To watch her ebb and flow.

In this landlocked location
I miss my mother's voice
Her soothing, rhythmic lullaby
Her tidal variation.

And yet she can be violent
You say, I've seen a storm
Over the ocean, it was fierce
And virulent.

The ocean is our mother
A woman like myself
She longs for peace eternally
She responds to the wishes of others.

The ocean doesn't cause the tempest
She doesn't make the tides
She is a fluid entity
That would remain at rest.

Except when eager fluctuations
Of gravity and winds
And shifting masses of the earth
Disturb her placid contemplations.