Language, our mangroves:

  

Open water lures, a web

not driven by hunger

nor the desire to breed,

it just is, a phenomenon —

but would it be if we

with our eyes did not to see,

with our ears did not to hear?

If we did not enter

by feet or ship,

by head or board,

and cross its distances

or ride its waves

because we can,

what then its appreciation?

What if our tales were not told,

no Moby, no Long John?

If the world had no consciousness,

no language to tell

what is seen or heard,

what then of water and sand?

Languages are the mangroves

that form new lands out of old.