Island Tributes

Blessed is our beach, survivor of wind and tide.
And blessed the litter of shell and weed, the horseshoe entombed in its ancient home, the jellyfish losing to a hostile and deadly world.
Blessed the magic of the plovers, skittering and darting, wheeling and settling, pecking at tiny morsels while dancing in the ebb.
Also, most blessed be the pacemakers and the peace seekers, the jogger, sometimes arthritic, forcing slow strides, finally exposed with scars aflame by the sunlit sea.
The south end, the point, Fifth Street and the four-wheel drivers facing glass and steel carnivals carry a blessing.
Blessed are our children, also the lovers, that they are granted one perfect day.
And blessed be the dolphins just beyond the close bar, feasting on silversides and bunker. Let their bellies be full and their smiles infectious.
Blessed too the osprey and tern, for they are the cherubim and seraphim of the water kingdom.
The gull be blessed, brave and defiant, open throated and screeching, scolding me brazenly to my face. He shall have his place returned to him in peaceful desolation.
Blessed be the long wave, with gentle and violent kisses giving tribute to an eternal queen.
Forever be blessed our island Brigantine.