Ph: Life: Whale Speak
Poem By Brian Johnston
Who would presume to speak for whales
And yet who would not speak for them?
Their poetry of depths unknown
The power in their mighty tales
The transport of deep rumbling hymn
Excited bursts from blowholes blown.
Jubilant breach touching the skies
Their world proclaimed in ghostly cries.
What sounds are music to their ears,
What strange rhythms suit their fancy,
With what clarity do whale's see,
What sights would move a whale to tears,
What blue thoughts might make them antsy,
What God a whale's true deity,
What somber rites end natural death,
What whale fears come with end of breath?
Two extremes divided by sands,
We populate air, sea's their home,
Oh, the things both take for granted!
We're both strangers in stranger lands-
To bruise your feet under sky's dome,
By sun, stars, and rainbow enchanted,
To float your whole life without thirst
Till harpoon informs you are cursed.
Plant eaters claim that they're better
But still kill their own kind in war.
One way or another, beaten
We all walk in chain or some fetter
Destined to be what we abhor.
In truth one eats or is eaten,
Whales too know the words of this song,
At least we all know we belong.