Robert Bly Poetry,Does the Lark Need Forgiveness For Its Blue Eggs? (1997)

at 28:00

"I've been thinking about these little adventures
in the early morning longing-the embarkations,
excursions in round hideboats on the  sea,
passing over the beings far below

The deep vowels-perhaps whales-mourn
and sing at their stone table five miles down
at the ocean floor, they mourn some loss.
But the small finny sounds, the ers and ins

and ors and ings, mourn as well-we don't
know what. Perhaps vowels were all created
in a moment of sorrow before creation-
a grief they've not been able to sing in this life"