The whale’s weeping wobbled wondrous on the whistling wind.
Sobs whittled on the descending waves.
Every tear was a pool that sank into the depths of the greater sea.
“I’m a fool!” cried she, in swooping melody that shamed the sirens into silence.
Terrified sharks raced past in fear,
Disenchanted by the kind of grieving a simple mind can’t bare.
Waterspouts whistled overhead swirling the echo of her song.
She swallowed the glacial pieces of her broken heart, for it had been too long.
The aqua kingdom was spun in disarray.
Widespread were the rumblings of oceanic pain.
From the Indian to the Arctic, the Pacific, the Atlantic.
Swimming incomparable sorrows of the crushed romantic.
By morning, sunlight pours into the sea.
Seaweed and coral glow warm like water crystals.
Radiant and gentle as the ocean thistle.
The aqua horizon shines open and vast, stretching like an eternal dream.
She swims towards it with a knowing, blessed gleam.
Her pool sized tears descend no more.
The sinking salts of her sobs had cut him like a sore, the one who hides in the black ocean floor. Sparkling are the waves strong and brisk.
Glorious is the whale for remembering this.
Forlorn was she and melancholy then.
But with the day renewed, she is beautiful again.
Nikko Espina