| Growing up, my family always vacationed at the Gulf, near Dauphin Island. I have so many great memories of body surfing, beach campfires, sunsets and cute girls I was always too shy to speak to. The oil spill is such a grievous thing to watch, even for someone like me for whom "green" is not necessarily my primary color. I have drawn some encouragement by this poem from Gerard Manley Hopkins. |
The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not wreck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge & shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs --
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast & with ah! bright wings.