Kanzo Makame, the diver, sturdy and small Japanee,
Seeker of pearls and of pearl-shell down in the depths of the sea,
Trudged o'er the bed of the ocean, searching industriously.
Over the pearl-grounds the lugger drifted -- a little white speck:
Joe Nagasaki, the "tender", holding the life-line on deck,
Talked through the rope to the diver, knew when to drift or to check.
Kanzo was king of his lugger, master and diver in one,
Diving wherever it pleased him, taking instructions from none;
“I will never leave you my baby, I am your mom and now my priority is you.”
It was early March at the Norway Coast. The water temperature was at thirty two degrees Fahrenheit or zero Celsius. The ocean was still invitingly cool. If it would get warmer, the whole pod would take off, swimming to Antarctica where waters were much chillier. They had a choice and could make decisions, and were very smart creatures.
She felt big and knew that anytime now she would produce a being that she would love, cherish and protect. It was wiggling and struggling inside of her and she was pushing her baby out, head first. Most orca whales gave birth to their offspring tail first, rarely the way she did. She was spinning and swimming in circles, faster at times, pushing her baby out. At some point she looked like a drill bit switched on high if you looked at it directly. She felt stretching and pressure down below her stomach near her tail as she made few loud distinct sounds. Her group mates knew what was going on with her and let her be by herself. They were all around but in the distance, looking like dark shadows slowly moving around her. She pushed while spinning and pushed again and again. She felt pressure and pain subsiding and a little baby orca male was getting borne as she let him out to the new world.
She had carried him for about seventeen months, but that was her job being a good mother. She was protecting herself all this time and the group was also protective of her. Orcas have pods inside a group established and if you are a part of it, you always stay together like a family.
He came out and at one point was disoriented and confused by his surroundings and slowly, he started to process the environment he was in by taking in the murky and enormously big ocean space. His instincts were kicking in fast and he thought that he wouldn’t be able to keep up with them all the time. His head throbbed as he swam away from his mother. He propelled deep down and stopped. There was no ending to it and he could go and go as far as he could, he thought. A moment later he realized that this was not what he wanted. He wanted to be with her as much as possible, be part of her life, be around her and make her happy, be part of a family.
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Well, they are gone, and here must I remain,
This lime-tree bower my prison! I have lost
Beauties and feelings, such as would have been
Most sweet to my remembrance even when age
Had dimm'd mine eyes to blindness! They, meanwhile,
Friends, whom I never more may meet again,
On springy heath, along the hill-top edge,
Wander in gladness, and wind down, perchance,
To that still roaring dell, of which I told;
The roaring dell, o'erwooded, narrow, deep,
Oh that those lips had language! Life has pass'd
With me but roughly since I heard thee last.
Those lips are thine- thy own sweet smiles I see,
The same that oft in childhood solaced me;
Voice only fails, else, how distinct they say,
'Grieve not, my child, chase all thy fears away! '
The meek intelligence of those dear eyes
(Blest be the art that can immortalize,
The art that baffles time's tyrannic claim
To quench it) here shines on me still the same.
I am extremely conflicted
I know where I want to be-
By the ocean-
But I don’t know how to get there
I don’t know whether I should go a traditional route,
And work full-time till I retire
Or whether I should pack everything up,
Hide out in a caravan
And live a small, menial life by the sea
The ocean is moved,
The wave laps at the shoreline,
The ocean returns
The salt attacks me,
I take in the surrealness,
It’s a pleasant sting
The wave is dismissed,
The wave draws back somberly,
She sells sea shells
By the sea shore
Where the mermaids dance
Behind the green glass door
She shouts she yells
By the sea shore
And the waves, they echo
a resounding roar
The sand under my feet, was like starting anew
A fresh start from all my past mishaps
Like every place I walked before... was wrong
Every step before was like stepping on the backspace
Wondering when I would take the right step
Wondering if I would ever take a step in the right direction
Why does the ocean help me realize, realize what I've been doing wrong
The ocean is such a peaceful place, a place where you can go
Below the surface of the sea
An ancient forest grows
Shafts of light from the brilliant sun
Illuminate what lies below
Khaki-colored kelp sway with grace