I'll be the Whale

It is more often than not
Jonah is seen as saved
as soon as the Whale
(that vast and glorious
fish, oh mercy, at the
call of a Master no-
one knows the address
of) spits him up
on shore. Sure.
He rights his wrongs
he
does what he could have
done without
sailor's souls. But
the fact is this:
The Whale (who carried him
like a child in his mother's womb or
a delicate unknowable cancer)
saved him first, through miles
of dark and unfathomed water that
beast ferried him from doom to
grace. By God, in his stomach.

But instead of heralding
this monster, we, as
did Jonah, move on to
get the larger sense, to
fulfill the larger aim.

We forget the
carrier of our grace.

And so I, to you my
unknowable, unfathomable woman,
will be your Whale.

I will hold you tenderly in my middle,
I will move slowly to the spot where
you will leave me, unremembered
and find your peace with whatever
you want to call it.

I will slip back into the sin black water
and be scared to death of it.

And wait in that void
for something like God
to pull me out again.

Reviews

[Nicholas Whitney]

This is good. I've never realized how easily left behind the whale is in Jonah's story. It's such an important element and yet it get's very little respect.

I am not a poet but I think that if a poem makes you feel, or think, something, then it deserves respect as well.

This is such a poem. Well done.

[Taylor H]

great poem! i see why you won