From infancy, we’re in its guts,
The beggars and the golden Tuts,
Until, when the Whaler cuts
Through blubber and sets us free,
We dive and thrash the freezing sea.
Decades on we still remember:
We were like insects in amber,
Protected, even transported,
Blind, yes, our hearing distorted
By the aggravated rumble
Of its great heart. We were humbled,
Every one of us alone.
We each had our one whale to own,
Yet we escaped to live or drown.
