There was a boy who spoke of whale-fall myths
Of giants bowing to the abyss
He said when whales complete their final breath
They turn to sustenance through elegant death
He found it tender
almost kind
To leave oneself for what remains behind
He never asked when wonder’s framed as grace
Who learns to live inside that vacant space
They call it whale fall softly named
A beauty dressed in science calm and tame
A massive body sinking without sound
Becoming ground where smaller lives are crowned
It’s told as balance told as law
Rarely as something breaking into more
Around the fall the water starts to move
Small shapes arrive with sharpened truths
They circle slow then speak in bursts of light
Claiming the dark as if by right
Of every signal drifting through the deep
Most dissolve before they ever keep
The current favors those who rise and gleam
Not those who hold the weight unseen
They call it whale fall when silence feeds
A noble end that answers others’needs
The whale remains enormous even gone
Its absence keeps the motion on
The sea looks full the surface calm
No record of what carried all that harm
Romance survives where distance holds
Where loss is neat and neatly told
They love the theory not the cost
The slow arithmetic of being lost
So whale-fall figures sink unnamed
Too vast to plead too still to blame
They nourish worlds that never learn their face
And call that vanishing grace
The ocean turns their end to lore
They were alive not metaphor before
And somewhere deep beyond the view
The sea remembers what it used
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