Resolution
The turtles didn’t arrive
last night
As they’ve done for millennia
to lay their eggs.
Why did they stay away?
Was it the full moon?
The ocean warming? Poisons
we pour into their home?
We wanted to share the Eve
with the leather-backed ladies,
Largest of their kind,
determined to survive.
Anticipation began to deflate
into disappointment,
Until a different kind of instinct
took over.
Our offspring, eight girls
and a boy,
Made up raucous games to play,
found each other.
Their infectious laughter,
lighter than air,
Lifted thoughts and spirits
of those who could listen.
And isn’t that the way it is
everywhere?
Daily news and events seem dire,
oppressive,
But life finds release
in youthful spontaneity.
We all wish we could fix the world
and we must try.
Yet happiness has worth.
The kind that’s not for sale,
That finds a way out
when the time is right,
And even at times when frowns
say otherwise.
Despite our efforts much change
is not for the better.
Still, once in a while, we get lucky,
really lucky:
Love and hope and glee
emerge whooping
And the turtles, drifting
in the dark ocean,
Feel the vibrations, stronger
than the moon, and know
That for all that is wrong,
something right lives on.
Charles B. Neff
Guanacaste, Costa Rica
New Year’s Eve, 2011
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