On Stingrays and Grandmothers

I saw a sting ray today,
Speckled grey and white,
Below mirrored turquoise,
Wings unfurling, stretching -
And I thought of dead grandmothers.
How they freed themselves
From things which
Grasp, catch, constrain
(nets, seamoss, old men’s beards);
Threw themselves across vast oceans,
On guts, brains and intuition;
Charted the path for their daughters and sons;
Lead us to fresher waters,
So we could walk on water lilies,
Reaching up green from mud
To dance and glitter
In golden shards of light