Songs/
No Better and No Worse
The calls of frogs, the insect choruses—
And I have read that whales have songs, ornate,
With melodies that cross the ocean leagues.
Some questions come to mind that might be strange
To others—or may not—that could arise
From what we humans feel on hearing these—
That humans long have preferred to ignore,
For reasons justified much less by sense
Than faith—of ancient or of modern kind.
Do langurs long for those that they have lost?
I do not know the answer to the first,
But think the second’s answer should be clear.
That a human would in such a circumstance—
And just as children can enjoy their play,
So also pups and calves and kittens may.
And fear and anger, jealousy and love—
These come and go in us as all things do—
And surely not in you and me alone
No better and no worse than ants or whales—
But special in our ways as all things are,
Including, in our case, the scope of war!
And this depends on things intangible.
So also, trees and humans have their lengths
In time, as do the whales and birds and mites.
A month, a year—or even till our ends—
And we ourselves are weaves within this flow—
That thread their tunes until it’s time to go.
Forgotten in our dazed amnesia,
As silence still can do,
if it’s embraced,
While letting go of all our prose and verse.
2022, July 7th,
Thu.
Brooklyn, New York
While letting go of all our prose and verse.
Brooklyn, New York
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