IN DEFENSE OF THE WHALE
“He swam the seas before the continents broke water.”
Chapter 111 – The Pacific
Tis not the whale
who fouls the waters
filled with rage and
past forgetting.
Tis not the whale
who hunts the man
and curses a day he
keeps regretting.
Tis man alone
who plots and schemes
and lies awake
and cannot dream.
Tis man alone
who seals his fate
by losing his soul
to so much hate.
Chapter 116 – The Dying Whale
I am buoyed by breaths
of once living things.
We are all connected,
all yearning towards
the same fiery sun that
gives us life, yet burns
undisturbed and unmoved
when we perish.
So we turn away and sigh,
leaving life to those
who come after.
Chapter 105 – Does the Whale's Magnitude Diminish?—Will He Perish?
“He swam the seas
before the continents
broke water,”
Ishmael muses,
as he eyes the slaughter.
Are they declining, asks
the man with a conscience.
Will they be diminished, says
the man, with prescience.
To cheer himself, he turns
to other beasts hunted,
claiming them all
equally confronted.
Buffalos, elephants,
brothers to the whale,
living creatures turned into
products for sale.
Chapter 104 – The Fossil Whale
Man stares out over the vast ocean,
at gray blue swells
as far as the eye can see,
and feels reduced to
the size of a thimble or
a cork that bobs powerlessly
on the endless surface, no more
substantial than a dot on a map
and as insignificant
as the gargantuan leviathan
who, spotted miles away,
seems but a dot himself
on the boundless vista.
Man stares next into earth’s vast history,
at eons of time and space
and experience without his presence,
and feels dwarfed once again,
an infinitesimal speck,
but this time not joined
by the Ancient Whale,
who populated the planet
and explored the seas
some 40 million years ago,
when man ‘twas not
even a dream.
Chapter 57 – Of Whales in Paint; in Teeth; in Wood; in Sheet-Iron;
in Stone; in Mountains; in Stars
Man hunts whale
whale does not hunt man.
And yet could, for there are
many more whales than ships,
a whale outweighs man and is in
his element in the vast ocean, and
man needs to be propped up in
wooden buckets that crack and
break like teacups when the
mighty forces of weather and
waves work against him.
And all the while, the
whale glides by or
slips below
to reemerge at his leisure
when the sea is smooth as glass.
Chapter 58 – Brit
We plow through
the yellow feeding fields
their home
their harvest
their sea
without an inkling
we've no right to do so.
“The cannibalism of the sea,”
says Man,
"Tis merely nature’s balance."
But man is the intruder here,
an interloper from
the most docile earth,
who makes it
his life’s work
to Kill.
Chapter 61 – Stubb Kills a Whale
~ From Where I Sit ~
The Whale is a living, breathing
force of life
with as much right
to roam the seas
as I have the earth.
Its blood flows, its pulse pounds
its appetite drives it forward,
and its joy as it leaps up
through the waves
must surely satisfy.
~ From Where You Sit ~
The Whale is a creature
born merely to serve you
and makes not
the slightest difference
except as a day’s work.
Your blood flows, your pulse pounds
your appetite drives you forward,
and your joy as you stalk him
through the waves
does surely satisfy.