Song of the Ways of Waves

We are not in this
Together. We are
This together. We

Don’t like that thought much.
We conceive ourselves—
Even those of us,

In some cases, who
Don’t think with language,
Maybe some of those

Who can’t properly
Be said to think—maws,
Hunger, and we are.

We think of teams, sides,
Helpers, hunters, prey.
If we think we’re this

Together, we think
Of who’s with us or
Who’s in our way, but

Only rarely who
We could all be said
Together to be.

Together we are
All this roiling thing,
Everything it sings.