Whale Song

Immensity was my first memory:

a vast space set before me

fading to aquamarine.

How limitless, the sea!

As I grew, I traveled far

through all the seven seas:

I chased the sun 'round westward,

circled back to east,

explored the frozen Arctic

and basked in the tropic breeze,

leapt into the air

and plumbed the mysteries of the deeps. . .

. . . but in all those many waters,

I could never find another beast like me.

My search turned frantic; year to year

I sought those boundaries,

the ocean walls of heavy sand

that checked my odyssey.

I had to find them—else I'd ever wonder

was there love, somewhere, for me?

Was empty water all I'd ever see?

It was; what's more, the walls pressed tight

till I could barely breathe.

How minuscule, the sea.

And now, barnacled, blackened bulk,

I drift among the seafloor hulks,

the remnants of forgotten, sunken dreams;

like me, they’ve come to rest here

at the very edge—the limit—of my final sea.