When I was young, being watched from pale
shorelines of New Zealand, I never believed
I held significance.
Every sea creature paddled, floated, and waded
past my body even though my shape was
supposedly called distinctive-
79,000 pounds without the will to live.
However, that summer, as I began to hunt on
krill and schooling fish, I met my first friend.
Her name was Lucille, and she quickly
became my pen pal through miles of ocean.
She once echoed to me that she could almost
touch sunlight whenever she leaped into sky...
I envied her courage for she seemed to give
birth to joyful sounds and happiness
often lost in subtropical waters.
Lucille would leave my side after each dusk,
knowing words could not soothe my loneliness-
but when the moon's reflection sparkled and
caught my eye, I began to listen to her nightide
song. Each note spoke names of creatures
she had met, remembered, and loved.
It lasted twenty minutes and I could not help
but repeat it. I felt a draw to her and instinctively
knew the way her pitch jumped then faltered.
I haven't stopped singing since...
I am the humpback whale, creating sound,
teaching others the song of my ancestors
as I slowly evolve- for I have realized to
have power my voice must be awakened.
-
November 23, 2013 @ 7:02 PM
Written for Round 3 of Chelsey's Survivor Challenge.
