The Octopus
Sentient kin
Our brother from an ancient mother
How keenly we search the stars, yearning
To touch sentience truly alien, and
We try so little to understand you
Do you want to understand us?
Do you speak as we do?
Do you care to speak?
Do you even care who we are?
We eat you — so indelicately
Troubled so little, unbothered
Even as we know you, as you
Are we the problem — we and I?
What will it take really, for me
Not to feast on Sentience
Speech? Tools? A Machine?
Love? Anger? Or Empathy?
Or are these just our renditions
To be worthy — To not be eaten
Who are we to decide this, truly?
Stuck on this trivial speck of dust
Forgotten in a corner of existence
How can we fathom
The infinite indifference of the Octopi
How can we feel
The wildful glee of the dolphin playfully
The sombre depression of the whale
As it tires of fighting a sea that refuses
And simply beaches on a shore to die
Beautifully
Who are we to decide for them?
Are we still wild? Or is this —
Our wildness.
Eating everyone we see
Our cousins, Our parents
All sentience, while we can
© Unni Nambiar (September 2nd 2020)
