A Song for Sister Whale

animal.discovery.com

Sister whale,

you begin your migration

along the rugged coast,

and I stand waiting

in the chill, late-winter dawn,

watching to see you passing by

on your ancient journey,

both of us caught

in the spell of a force

far greater than man's,

connected in the mystery

and the beauty

of the universal plan

that makes us sisters

under the skin,

that makes us kin.

Mystical swimmer

in the primal sea,

it's been your ocean

since the world began.

You have made your way

century upon century

from birthing grounds

to feeding grounds,

your babies by your side,

your steady progress

purposeful and true

through the perilous course

your corridor has become

since it became a corridor

man shares with you.

I have looked down

to see you from the air,

your body outlined

like a dozing giant

in the kelp,

and I have caught my breath

as,with a huge exhalation,

you surfaced right beside my boat,

with your wise, loving eye

seeing me clear,

looking like you wanted to offer

us bumbling humans help

to learn the ancient wisdom

you could share,

if only you could find

a way to speak,

and if only we could find a way

to hear.

Now they say you're dying

in massive numbers

in the hunt,
and I am weeping

as I hear the news

that your neighborhood,

a whale highway

at this time of year,

is full of boats with spears,
the ocean a red flood,
your ancient bodies
carved for sale
on decks slippery with your blood,

from swimming through the sea

in total trust,

because you have no choice

and swim you must.

My mind, after

the numbness and despair,
wants to check out, as
it hurts so much to care.

My heart is aching,

for what it's worth.

Should we put up a sign 
in the ocean:

Detour this earth?

I'd say I'm sorry

and I'm not the only one.

I own the guilt of

belonging to

my species.
All I can do is write my pain

into a poem.

I know your heart

holds sorrow too,

everywhere you roam,

for I can hear it

in your mournful song.

What are we doing to your home?

What are we doing to

our planetary home?

Sister whale,

swim fast, swim free.

Some of us know

that together we share

a common destiny.

Kids, this morning Paul Watson of the Sea Shepherd was interviewed on CBC. He has slipped  bail in Germany and has set sea to intercept four Japanese whaling ships whose aim is to kill 900 whales - nine hundred whales - for "scientific research".

Observation of these operations shows no research is being done. Hovering helicopters witness the whales being cut up and frozen for sale to restaurants and fish markets. In recent years, they have killed 20,000 whales.  No research papers have ever been released.

I cant take much more of this, kids. 

The Sea Shepherd Society vows Zero Tolerance of this massacre. They plan to position their boat across the loading bay of the ships.  "If they cant load the whales, they cant sell them,"  Paul says. "We have to talk to them in the only language they understand: profit and loss. I will abide by the injunction forbidding me to be closer than 450 meters from their fleet. But my crew is not affected by the injunction.

"Life in  the ocean is being diminished, from plankton to fish to the great whales. Without the ocean, we cant live. But there is a lack of government motivation to protect the whales, and a financial motivation to continue the hunt, to protect corporate interests," Paul said this morning. "The Sea Shepherd Society vows Zero Tolerance of the killing of these whales."

I adapted this poem from one I wrote years ago, during another whale crisis. I am too sick at heart to come up with a new one. I am linking this to Open Link at Real Toads. Thanks, kids, for reading.