Immersed Perspective

The fact I’ve lived my life immersed,

In waters full of darting eyes,

Has meant my mind, by force traversed,

The “Gulf of Species” many lies.

That “Man feels pain way more than fish”,

As many a man still says,

Reveals a feeble, desperate wish,

To justify our torturous ways.

You come to some conclusions when you’re spending every day,

In the company of Others, not your kind,

Like; much of what we claim unique, like; tools, and thought, and play,

Are not unique, and nor so is our mind.

I’ve long since learned, a friend can be, a large blue Maori Wrasse.

I’ve learned that they possess an inner life.

I’ve watched across the years as on his skin the scars amass.

From the spears and hooks and sharks and other strife.

But he knows me from a tourist, and he likes to play and pose,

Despite his savage woundings he is calm,

He is smart and he’s discerning, and he knows those unjust blows,

Were launched at him from someone else's arm.

And while each spear wound lays him out,

For weeks at least, or more,

Recovered now, he’ll play about,

But never like he was before.

I’ve come to learn that turtles, can get itchy on the shell,

But it’s not a simple thing to get it scratched.

When you’re with them every day, they can come to know you well,

And to fingers, once discovered, they can quickly get attached.

Then there is the Coral Trout, who when it’s time for tea,

Will go and tap a Moray on the face.

The Trout, who’ll rush the little fish, which into cracks will flee,

Will signal, to his buddy, to surge forth now, and give chase.

The other hunting buddy for our cunning Coral Trout,

Is the octopus, already known for brains,

But whomever, when they enter, all the tenants panic out,

There’s good eating in the chaos that the bottleneck contains.

A pilot fish will leave his shark, in favour of your face,

Provided that your bow wake is well formed,

Then in cross-eyed close proximity the little fish will race,

As you witness the minutiae of the swimming act performed.

And you realise he is pushing, against eddies, in your wake,

Like fleeting, flowing footholds, in a four D climbing wall,

In rougher seas I used to tire, this fish showed my mistake,

He taught me how to find the ride, the surging tide provides to all.

And in winter, in the channels, amongst the bommies, off the reef.

Mass the biggest creatures ever to draw breath,

As they seek the warm lagoons and from the cold take their relief,

Before returning to their battle with the whalers, bringing death.

When a baby Minke spots you as you bob amongst the pod,

If you’re holding on to something, she’ll get brave,

She’ll get closer, and then closer, just to take in all that’s odd,

A nervous curiosity reveals a mind within to save.

Every interaction serves to drive this message home,

“We are not alone here on this rock”

Everything, that ever was or will be, in a dome.

It’s up to us to understand, and urgently, we must take stock.