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Blue Whales off the Coast of Dana Point, California
September 18th, 2011
We followed the spouts,
chased the fanfare of mist
until we were met with teal shadows,
moving masses below the surface of the ocean.
And as our vessel swayed and bowed,
the shadows split the breathing sea.
Then rose mountains of slate
silently sweeping the horizon
then gliding below again.
With powerful force and powerful grace
they entered our world of air
as if the arcs they drew across the level sea
were not a necessary interruption,
not the methodical mechanics of biology,
but a dance;
every breath a pirouette,
every rise and fall, the movement of music seen.
One by one they would make themselves known,
a blast of warm breath, then the surging ballet.
And then,
without remark or report,
they would aim once again for the deep
and the smooth curve of grey,
flexing now toward its home,
would wheel the entire, vast length of spine.
At times a powerful tail would breach
and splash a punctuating farewell.
Others would simply and silently glide away,
the pulsing tail a discrete continuation
of the body's contoured dance.
But no matter how the creatures left the stage
at the meeting place of our two worlds,
the resulting effect was always the same;
for as the thrust of their tails sent their billowing mass downward
the surrounding sea was sent up.
And where a moment ago fought endless ripples,
the agitation of wind and tides,
soon emerged a glassy calm
that expanded and remained
well after the whale had left our sight.
And how fitting a footprint that this life should leave
as it graced our time with its spirit,
that the world it left was made more peaceful
by it simply being there.
For Ray
6/17/1980 - 9/18/2011
