Gently, he glides along the sandy bottom.
To and fro, he swishes and swings,
A long grey knife slices the water in a balletic ease.
Silent is he, the king down beneath.
Eye of coal, glazed by mirrors.
He sees in shadows, no name to his prey.
His nose sharpened to a point,
A sonar net.
No victim is safe when the boundaries are defined
And yet invisible.
Belly white and gums pink
But he blends like the grasshopper to the leaf.
His darkened domain, blankets his deeds.
For no one will hear your screams
A thousand leagues beneath the sea.
Continuous is his body,
Never rest never tire
And never will he retire
And never is he a crier,
Emotionless demon who rather eat their child
Than eat the child of manmade creation.
Horrifically beautiful, a dinosaur, a beast.
And never would I believe that this phantom of the deep
Is only just as guilty as the coconut trees
Or the bees
Or the deeds of bullets and knives and steel.
Yet, here he is defined as monster
Because his is not defined at all.
We know nothing of the blue,
But he has touched it all
And he hungers not for you,
But of the seals’ calls.