Jonah's whale addresses the almighty.

Ruler of oceans, who can fathom
this awkward summons? Pity my moans,
this long throat aching for everyday air.
Doubts are lice. They eat into brain and heart.
With a word, I'm consigned to unknown
shores. Oh, Maker of magnificent
tails, reconsider stranding this body,
far from the circle of my kind.
Though I gulp back salt, your breakers
sweep over me, they drown my songs,
they will flense my flesh. Never mind.
You command my breath, as ever.
Columns of blubbles rise, our spoken net
to enfold a wayward son. I'll do as I'm told, only
ease the lung-numbing gulp, the heavy
breach, the intestinal hell. Let the dripping thing
live. Then, may whatever end you design, kindly
close its mouth over me. Oh, to leap, to swim,
to sink into you once more, before beaching.