I am republishing my poem Ode to a Whistleblower to honor the memory of Whistleblowers’ Whistleblower Daniel Ellsberg (April 7, 1931–June 16, 2023) and shine a light on the looming extradition of his treasured friend Julian Assange.
It starts as a whisper.
A tickle in your throat.
A glissando down your spine.
A quiver in your stomach.
The hairs on your arms rise up.
A tremor pulses through your nervous system.
Nausea washes over, engulfing you,
Until you can no longer contain it.
What you’ve seen cannot be un-seen.
What you’ve heard cannot be un-heard.
What you’ve felt cannot be un-felt.
What you know cannot be un-known.
To speak that knowledge,
to sing that secret,
to roar that truth
is to risk all—
career, reputation, security, relationships,
life.
And yet to stifle it,
to tamp it down,
to suffocate it
is to sap your integrity,
to stoke your guilt,
to stab your soul.
So you release it,
let it fly,
and it wings its way
round the globe,
waking, shaking,
taking flight.
You know your peace
will be shattered.
You know your days
may be fewer.
You know this could be
your last song.
But you belt it out
anyway.
You bellow it out
because.
You whistle it to the stars,
and the stars echo it back.
You’ve rippled the ocean.
You’ve whipped the wind.
You’ve sparked the volcano.
And even if the Goliaths target you,
even if their thugs assault you,
even if their scientists spike you,
your truth will swell to a seismic wave,
traveling upon the sea of the awakened,
swallowing up our tyrannizers.
We will trill your truth.
We will warble your song.
We will whistle your secret
to the world, until there are
too many of us to silence.
