Like a person coping with apnea
a sleeping whale must surface to catch its breath.
Cetologists find, to accommodate,
the whale brain adapted so only one half wakes
at a time, while the other half
slumbers on, maybe in pursuit of REM-state krill,
then switches on to take its turn
to mind the re-storing of fresh, essential oxygen.
How wondrous efficient could we be,
no hours wasted lying ghostly, unconscious,
if Right brain rested as Left balanced check books,
counted sit-up reps, completed sudoku.
Left then takes a load off when Right awakens,
alert to muse calls, in that flow state
where art moons mortality and offers the universe
our equivalent of whale song.
