Last night I was visited by Killer Whales
The thing is I never usually dream of other animals
We were on a kind of theme park glacier
The Whales grew increasingly impatient of the hoards
People who interpreted their presence as a sign
evidence that the human project was blessed
The scientist she told me that the Wales want to be acknowledged
That they wait vigorously to pierce our hubris
so they can broadcast their soundscapes of truth
Visceral messages which would melt our hearts to water our
brains
And dissolve our muddled certainty
These creatures are restless to repurpose confusion
They do not play with our fear they seek to channel it
We have gathered tears from their tear ducts for decades
Yet still ignore their grief
A groaning churning world preoccupies us
We dally with positive spins
Thin, cosmetic delusions
The longing for a panacea twists us up
corkscrewing our heads deeper into the sand
Swerving past the gritty grains of truth
As we dash around for cinematic moments of hope
And cast ourselves as saviour to the play things.
Play things they are not
They want to be met
They have been tapping out a message
Let’s start there
Swimming through the broken ice of reality
Their heavy hearts are more than facts
Their swirling every day is not friendly
The life all around us is kinetic in its disbelief
Insisting on relatedness
Calling to our wild selves to awaken
And commune with the textured anguish of the deep sea
Their urgency will soon be ours
Discomfort crashing in with intuitive waves of knowledge
Intrusive is the truth
That time is up
Killer Whales burst in to my consciousness
Wanting to be acknowledged
Some humans have been diligently listening
I woke up from a dream to write this
