Calling the Whales

Call them and they will come:

they will come up from the deep,

from the wished for unknown.

Belugas, smiling, pure white, chirping

and singing their Arctic songs of long ago

and songs of today.

Then magnificent migratory humpbacks,

breach, sound and

breach again slapping down

in a huge splash.

In ancient days, whales harmonized

 with a stone pipe’s tune

and sometimes to the  sympathetic sounds of

Arctic throat singers.

Think of whales with a good heart

or simply say, “I wish I could see a whale,”

and there they will be.

The belugas will sing to you

songs of Arctic ice that cracks like a gun

songs of longing, songs of salt, of swarming krill.

And the black and white killer whales

follow the salmon in their yearly

migrations.

Even they with their

rows of sharp teeth will not harm you.

as they swim close, don’t be afraid.

Such knowledge lies within our bones:

within their bones.

It is something within yet just

 beyond our grasp.