🐢 Godspeed, Little One - The Last Pilgrim

A lone sea turtle hatchling makes its determined journey across the sand toward the welcoming embrace of the ocean.

The evening air was thick with salt and anticipation.

Crowds gathered at the shoreline, feet pressing into cool, damp sand, whispers rising above the rhythmic breath of the tide. My two younger sisters stood at my side — three souls, bound by blood and by the quiet reverence of what was about to happen.

Out of a nest of 120 fragile shells, only one hatchling remained.

Three days ago, 115 had answered the ocean’s call. Four would never know it.

And now, here it was — so impossibly small, so determined.

We watched it crawl.

Each step was a story of survival, each pause a battle won against the pull of the world.

Foam-tipped waves reached for it, and still it pressed forward — a pilgrim on a journey only its kind could understand.

When at last the sea embraced it, the moment felt like watching a prayer come true.

I whispered my blessing to the horizon:

Godspeed, little one. Have a happy life at sea.

To a Hatchling Sea Turtle

This is the moment,

the one I will think on, fifty years from now 

and feel the warmth of tears welling up fast

the awe returning, undiminished.

Three days late,

all your nest mates gone to sea,

you make your trek alone

toward the waves that shimmer as the

sun’s embers fade.

My sisters flank me

as we watch,

enraptured,

and we hold our breath;

Godspeed, little one.