Whales Poem by Justin Reamer

The whales, they say,
Are the gentle giants of the world,
Going around and loving one another,
But there is something else to them,
Something people don't notice,
Something almost divine.

Two humpbacks swim in front of my ship,
Blowing and breathing,
Communicating with each other,
Yet one of them is dormant,
Not stationary,
But still,
And I don't understand why.
It seems to me that maybe she is tired,
Or maybe she is old and weary,
Or perhaps dead,
But my guide assures me she lives,
And she is living with full vitality.
Rather than moving around, he says,
She stays still for one reason-
She is pregnant, about to go into labour.

She sits there,
And we see the humpbacks circle her,
As they begin a sort of ceremony together.
The whale then goes into labour,
And she pushes with all her might.
The tail and the flukes are the first
To come out,
And then a new calf is born.
The humpbacks circle the mother
And lift their heads in the sky as
The young child, the calf,
Is born in front of them.

The young calf does not know how to breathe yet,
But the mother takes her calf
By the roof of her mouth,
Her forehead,
And pushes him up by his belly
So that his head can reach the surface,
And the young calf breathes for the first time.
All the humpbacks rejoiced at this beautiful sight,
As well as all of us,
We mere humans that were able to see the spectacle.

The young calf then begins to swim,
Practising with all his joints,
Seeing how he can work them,
Much like an infant who is discovering
His or her world.
It plays with its mother, its father,
Its relatives and its siblings.
The whales all hum to the calf
With a tempo so majestic
And so euphonious and happy.
They sing a song for the newborn,
And he sings along with them.
The mother keeps him at his side,
And they sing,
Celebrating their family's new birth.

The whales, I realise,
Are family-oriented,
And they see the beauty and wonder
Of all children and adults alike;
They rejoice at birth, marriage, and things like that,
And mourn for those who die.
They see the ultimate thing in life- love,
And they see the Higher Being that created them- God.
They rejoice and mourn throughout their lives,
But they see the good things they have,
And are thankful for all that they do.
They are almost Divine.

I wonder, why cannot we be like the whales?
Why must we be so simple,
So harsh, so stoic,
So stearn,
Being wonks of every crazy generation,
Becoming more atheistic, secular, and complicated,
Lamenting over trachles,
And suffering from what we do not know?
Maybe we should consider the whales,
And be like them,
And maybe be thankful for
The things we have.
It might be better for all of us.