We mourn the lost lives—the eleven workers who died—and we know the heaviness that hangs over their families.

We mourn the lost livelihoods. Many have had their lives changed: shrimpers, fishermen, those whose income depends on tourists, and those who work on oil rigs. They have been hit hard.

We mourn the wildlife drenched in oil—
brown pelicans, sea turtles, dolphins,
fish, seagulls and whales,
egrets, hersons and white ibis,
marsh birds, song birds, the northern gannet,
jelly fish and dragonflies,
sea birds, terns and laughing gulls.

We mourn the grass and seaweed and all the plant life choked in black crude.

We mourn the smeared beaches, the sullied marshes, the islands and shores that lie in the path of the black, unstoppable oil.

We wait, too, for the consequences that will ripple outwards from the Gulf, ripple east and west, south and north. We wait for the unknown ways our own lives will surely need to change.

Let us hope for
and work for
positive changes—

for our children and grandchildren,
for the once-blue waters,
and for all that lives on Mother Earth.