The mangroves stand, roots dug deep like my own, reaching for both land and sea, holding tight to what’s beneath but never afraid of the waters that come and go. The ocean sways around them, like a rhythm only they can feel, pulling, pushing, always in motion—yet the mangroves remain, calm, steady, anchored in the chaos.
The two of them, they aren’t at odds. The ocean rises, relentless, and the mangroves bend, just enough to stay standing. They’re not fighting—they’re in a silent agreement. The waves may test them, but the mangroves never break. They absorb the ocean’s weight, feeding off the saltwater stories that wash against their roots.
It’s like that with me—planted in the middle of things, firm in who I am, yet knowing life comes like waves. You bend, you take it in, but you never lose your ground. The ocean has its place, wild and untamed, but the mangroves remind it that there’s power in standing firm, in knowing who you are when the tide pulls at you.
The mangroves and the ocean—a balance I understand. One stands, one flows, and together they exist, not in opposition but in harmony, each one stronger for the presence of the other. It’s in that space between resistance and surrender that you find the truth, where roots meet waves.
© Nelly Vee
