Siren, Revisited.

[crows]

An evening where I cannot let night have me,
Wreaths my life in smoke; and I escape,
Is it this I’ve come for? Death, or sunlight. I blink my eyes…
For a moment I am lost against the rocks.

It is here I fumble, guilty, to the shoreline
Here steps have borne you into the horizon.
I rub my heart with stones, my hands so cold.

You return to me from battle, riding
On the high crest of a fever long to break
It’s white wave flecks your dark-gold hair a thousand
Colors, and, an angel, your bright sword flashes against Dusk.

A terse exchange, in light of all our history
The flicker of a candle in the dark:
Brief flash, rich color, touch and
Silence breathe together in the solid night.

My open palms forgive any trespass, prepare
Two shapes – or a thousand – for the nails,
But it is you, perhaps, who offer to me – pierced –
That which I could not have found in you,
For all my searching. I, perhaps, was wrong.

From blood to blood the sacral spirit moves
Transference in the dark sigh of the sea,
It flourishes secretly within my bosom, this
Subtle fruit. Life-bringing bearer of forbidden knowledge.

I wait now, but a small seed for you,
Cradled in the lap of Mother’s ocean
Stone and wood is stone in darkest night
Fertile, given breath by other powers, and still
Other powers draw my breath away.

It is like this, for a time, among the silence
My heart pulled in and out on every breaker. Now…
The night gives way to sunrise; and, still waiting
I carry my soul and steal away.

Drive your flashing steel into the sunset,
Pierce night’s dark breast deeply with that brilliance
Send me a storm to sail on: I will come to you,
Clothed in the dark veil of the waves.