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A Leatherback’s Lament for Her Mother, The Sea
A response to the microfiction prompt Your View of the Ocean and World as a Marine Mammal, by Greg Prince.
Why does the sea love the moon so, when she should love only us? Yet on nights when the moon descends into the very depths of our world to merge with her, it feels like we have been abandoned, betrayed. Our only safety from those larger than us, the ones with the big teeth used to rent and fins to guide their pursuit, lies in remaining hidden in the darkest shadows. When the moon comes to join the sea it’s as if it’s shining a huge light on us, pointing us out for all those who seek our flesh, or worse yet our young not yet old enough to swim quickly away.
And the sea? She seems to simply forget us in her love affair with that bright orb which has no place here. Even though I know it isn’t so, it’s like she draws away from us. The pressing pressure of her presence lets up and it feels as if I’ve been set adrift unable to remain tethered where I choose.
The soft bubbles are muted, not even the great whales call out nor do they sing to one another as they normally due, a lullaby for all of us, the sea our blanket tucking us safely in. The sea no longer kisses the shore, the regular rhythmic repetition that harmonizes with the whale song to…
