Whale Watching

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“Ready?”

Take a deep breath,

you’ll want to make it last.

We all traversed the undercurrents,

and took shots in the dark.

The sharks played chicken with us,

though there’s safety in numbers,

we didn’t need the hassle

so we went fishing.

We grabbed a bite to eat

And did some networking,

with a few like-minded pods.

“Let’s take a break”

in the tropics,

we met the locals

the coral shimmered in the choppy light

coming through

crystal-clear water.

“Let’s make waves by the bay,”

Anchored boats watched

as half of us

caused a ruckus

and the rest lazed by,

until we saw Sailors’ Delight.

“Let’s get going,”

“Same time tomorrow?”

“I’ll have my people call your people,”

“listen for our code.”

Fond farewells

echo in the distance

as they await

another day.

Reflections From the Wind Tunnel

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The abyss looked through me,

and I had no answers for it.

But I couldn’t just walk away,

avert my gaze,

throw my hands up

and call it quits.

“Assert yourself,”

I commanded,

The wind caught my words

as they left my lips,

and sent them somewhere

No one could hear.

There was only so much I could stand,

So I marched again,

and I marched again,

I marched until I was beaten back

to where I started.

The Ravens croaked above

coasting on rising thermals,

and they looked down on me

holding still.

Someday I’ll be airworthy.

Today the abyss looked back at me,

And I’ll look back on the abyss fondly,

For all it taught me.

Tuatara

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I’m from an ancient bloodline,

patient and pensive,

and to my surprise,

time flies,

regardless of whether or not

you’re having fun.

Everyone I related to

left long ago,

and all that remains

are these fraud lizards,

with my third eye,

I see right through them.

Meanwhile,

here I am,

in exile,

under a rock.

I’m from an ancient bloodline,

strong and tenacious,

I spend my days digging trenches,

eating spiders

and hissing at tourists,

what a complete indignity.

My ancestors,

walked shoulder-to-shoulder

with giants and beasts,

now that there’s finally some room to breathe,

It seems there’s less space for us than ever.

I’m from an ancient bloodline

peaceful and wise,

and for old times sake,

I’d like to revisit the Halcyon days,

and have the sun blocked out once more,

an equal playing field.

Trust me on this,

the world needs it.

Wading For It

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Beware of any oasis,

because nowhere in this world of oddities,

will you cross the same river twice.

Try, try, try, as you might,

leaning into the current,

cannot bring you to the past-

grasping for the rain drops,

will not help you

stand steady and weather a storm.

No matter how torn,

you may feel,

there are times you must leave it all behind,

you’ll know it when you see it.

But so be it,

and fear not,

you never have to leave green pastures,

if you can bring them with you,

in tempests and torrents,

deserts, meadows, canyons, summits.

So long as you’re still going,

you are always exactly

where you need to be.

If you’re a fish out of water,

I really hope you’re a mudskipper.

Microplastics

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Even in crystalline

waterways,

you will find

traces

of traces,

that divide with time

but never disappear.

They have multiplied recently,

added up immensely,

but won’t be subtracted.

Humanity has left fingerprints,

evidence,

Of wastefulness,

And decadence.

Washed-out facial scrubs,

Crushed-up soda bottles,

And toys discarded long ago,

All have lost their usefulness,

Yet refuse to decay.

All have altered Earth’s circulation,

Left her face mottled,

Bruised, and scarred.

Think twice before throwing things away,

Just because you can’t see something,

Doesn’t mean it won’t stay.

Paper Tiger Meets Straw Dog

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Paper tigers are

saber rattlers,

neighbor tattlers,

favored whiners and

major prattlers that

savor decline,

yet cannot fight.

To do away

with a roaring beast

only to find a

fragile fraidy cat

in its place

should not be surprising.

Sometimes stripes are earned,

sometimes they are merely projected.

Straw dogs are routinely discarded,

after their special day,

not because they deserve this,

but because this is their purpose.

Dressed to the nines,

blessed and

lest we forget

left in the street

once their mission is complete.

No matter how many times,

they are thrown away,

straw dogs return another day,

to be a display,

that cannot stay.

Plasmids

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Genes generated,

as standalone

updates and patches,

to be mixed-and-matched,

and exchanged among clones.

“Enclosed,

you will find,

my latest experiment.

After tinkering with my code,

I’ve increased recalcitrance,

By twofold.”

You scratch my back,

I’ll scratch yours.

Even bacteria

can do business,

they innovate,

compete,

consume,

and coordinate,

under our noses.