“Thoughts From an Outcast”

I wonder what the beached whale thinks

when it crashes on the sands of some

cold-hearted shore in the mist of dawn.

Pushing and moaning with all its might

to set itself free from the jaws of death.

Or perhaps it welcomes the stale

doomed air of suffocation and despair.

Years of swimming in solitude,

cut loose from the pod in a panic

or severed from ties too loose.

Who can say what the weary soul

wonders when it finds itself in

the company of kindhearted hands.

A gift so grand that few are given,

a second chance at the depths of the sea.

-bb