I woke up early this morning and while I was waiting for the prompt, a dolphin swam into my consciousness and prompted this tale. While you are waiting for me to write a poem about the sense of smell, (today’s prompt), please be content with this one written about another sense:
The dolphins ride in on the music.
Oh, how did the dolphins get here?
All of their harmonies forming
around a new music most queer.
They didn’t come in on a melody.
Didn’t come in on a riff.
They came on a dissonant whistle
its tone just a beckoning whiff.
Whatever the dolphins are hearing,
wherever they’re trying to reach,
we cannot hear what they’re saying,
stranded right here on our beach.
Perhaps we divert them with towers
that speak in a language their own–
calling them with no intention,
our messages forming a koan.
We believe we are harmless and loving,
at peace with their watery dreams;
when in truth we are drying their world up–
pulling it loose at the seams.
Then we send out our signals to draw them
landwards where they should not be.
As the fairytales told to our children
draw them to collect at our knee,
their backs to the crystal clear window,
their ears sealed to all the high tones;
while the dolphins swim forever landward.
Our beaches are paved with their bones.
I am not an expert on sonar or other communication technology. If you want to hear more on the subject, go here: http://www.earthportals.com/beachedwhales.html