“What secret did the whale hide from the dolphin?”

Beneath the waves where morning glows  
And kelp drifts soft as midnight snows,  
A dolphin danced in silver arcs—  
His laughter ringing through the dark.

He called beneath the sapphire dome,  
"Old whale, what secrets do you own?  
You glide where ancient shadows seep;  
What do you dream when sunk so deep?"

The whale, with barnacles and age,  
Rolled gently in his watery stage.  
His eye—a lamp of sunken years—  
Glimmed bright with salt and silent tears.

“My friend,” he sang, in rumbling tone,  
“There’s much I’ve learned in depths alone.  
But one small truth I keep inside—  
A gentle song I’ve always tied.”

The dolphin clicked, with playful pride:  
“A song? Why ever would you hide?  
We share our leaps! Our hunts! Our tunes!  
Why keep your music from the moons?”

The whale replied, with wistful air,  
“This secret song is soft and rare;  
It’s meant for when the world is still—  
A lullaby for ocean’s will.

Within its notes, the old tides call  
To coral kingdoms, great and small.  
It holds the hush that moonbeams send  
When sunlight and the blue depths blend.

I sing it when the hour grows thin,  
When stars above reflect within;  
It’s not for hiding out of spite—  
But meant for solitude, and night.”

The dolphin pondered in the light  
Of shimmering scales and morning bright;  
He nudged his friend and softly sighed:  
“I think I see why whales confide

Their gentlest truth to distant swell—  
Some songs are secrets we don’t tell,  
But carry deep where mysteries dwell.”

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