welcome the whale (20 Jan 2011)

22 Feb

It’s fast, the rhythm jaunty
there’s nothing foreign in it
but I can’t breathe
like my lungs are craving
complete submersion

and I am drowning, as a fish drowns
  in air
the pulse of life has sped up
and I have slowed
   down

my rhythm
alienating

the more I try
  to join in
the more I
drown, the muse is pulling

I can feel another pulse
it is deep

   deep

blue

it is the speed of sand
the texture of ocean
the ripple of one century
after another

it is a forever more wish

it is the silent pulse
the youngest throb of an ancient whale
as she holds the calm
and claims the surface

for a wandering moment
she sees me struggling

you are not of them today

and guides me
  down
I navigate my slowness
my steadiness

I pulse languid on the radar
these small eyes
understanding
still rhythms

to those up there
I pulse alone
the surface ruffled by wind and
the chattering white waves

aah but I pulse not-of-them today
   I pulse deep
  silent
blue

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One Response to “welcome the whale (20 Jan 2011)”

  1. squashedmosquito February 22, 2011 at 1:22 pm #

    I wrote this poem after I’d attended a druid camp. After the initiating ceremony where we were welcomed on to the land, I walked out of the spiral labyrinth a different octave from everyone else. It seemed, everyone sped up. And I slowed down. This poem, I hope, reflects this experience.

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