The Music You Make with the Whales

I was standing at the head of a ship

Whatever that’s called
And singing

While the whales rolled

Beneath me

I mean, I assumed they were there

I don’t see any reason

Why they wouldn’t be

The thing about poetic living

Is that you can’t always wait for it

To happen organically

Sometimes you have to

Create moments

Within a lifetime

In order to bring forth

The poetry in your own life

Like my cousin, Sereba

Who went to the rainforest

And waited for a poacher

To confront her

So she could challenge them

To a wrestling match

In an symbolic battle

Of nature versus capitalist invasion

Unfortunately she came down with a stomach virus

And nearly died

In a hospital

Right outside Rio

She’s much better now

And spends her purist energy

Getting local supermarkets

To stock healthier cereals

We all have to do our part

That’s what I’ve learned

On my many trips

Making music

With the whales

I truly believe that if you reach out far enough

Something will meet you

Where you are

Wherever that might be

And wherever the thing you’re reaching for...is

The surest road to success

Lies in the imagination

So, you know, if you imagine yourself

Deep in the darkest parts of the ocean

Or right up near the surface

Communicating with the sea’s most majestic creatures

It’s entirely possible to believe you are, in fact,

Doing that

When I stand on those ships

I try not to think about

The charges I put on my credit card

To finance these life-changing, uh, expeditions

I’m not the first person

To give up everything

In order to achieve a higher consciousness

And seize a better life

For themselves

One made up of things

More fulfilling

Than houses

Or cars

Or stability

Or security

Or not wondering

What that thing on your hip is

Because you can’t afford

To have a doctor
Look at it for you

I have chosen the path

Of the courageous

The journey of the brave

The, uh, the…

You know…

When water from the ocean

Hits your face

In those little sprays and mists

That happen all the time

Standing on deck, it--

It’s this constant wake-up call

It’s this--

This little voice

From the, from the--

From God, or something

Saying--

You’re here

You’re alive

You’re part of something

Greater than yourself

And it’s--

It’s hard not to feel like

That’s where you belong

And nowhere else

And that there isn’t another time

Another, uh, part of your life

Another section of it

That was better, or, or--

Or there is no better, or--

You hear a sound
A distorted sound

But a sound, and you--

You run over to the side of the ship

And there it is

The music

The music of the whales

And you open your mouth

Meeting them

Meeting them where they are

And the music

The music starts to come

From you

From a place

You never even knew

Was there