Dave Bonta's "Maritime" is a short, quiet poem that reads almost like an instruction. The speaker asks us to "try to see the sea / touching us all," as if the ocean were something that connects everyone, even people far from the shore. The word "try" matters here. Seeing that connection takes effort, and the speaker seems to know it isn't automatic.
The poem then looks forward to "whoever shall come next," the people not yet born. They will "be born / into this work," which suggests that living is a kind of ongoing labor we all inherit. The final line, "this way of being full," is open to interpretation. It might mean being full of life, of water, or of the shared world around us.
The mood is calm, hopeful, and a little solemn. The speaker sounds gentle rather than urgent, inviting us to notice something larger than ourselves and to feel part of a chain stretching ahead.