Siren Whispers

Siren Song


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And the rains came

A year has passed

since that August morn,

yet it feels like yesterday.

A day beginning like every other day,

only it wasn’t.

I woke, alone,

at peace with the silence and soft

entrance to the day.

I lay there, thinking,

contemplating the end;

twenty-three years of a life

accompanied but not shared.

A half-life,

existing,

stasis all I knew.

A single day bringing all that to an end.

Changes would mount, swiftly,

a hurricane gathering shape

and strength

offshore.

I girded myself for the storm,

open arms and an upturned face

waiting

for the rains to come.

A stinging kiss to remind me

I am alive.

Transformation found in droplet

and deluge

alike.

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Copyright © SirenSong1208

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Photograph by Lynne Gee via Flickr


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Out takes

I want to take a moment to thank all my wonderful followers and readers. When I created this blog back in 2014, I never anticipated it would grow as it did; I just wanted a place to share what I was feeling, thinking, and seeing in my mind’s eye.

Recently I have begun to write pieces that reflect the many changes my life has undergone. To date I have published two of them on Medium magazine, found online.

The links below will take you to each piece, a short read. I hope you enjoy.

Thank you again for your wonderful support.

C

Navigating the world in sound bites 

Bittersweet Identity

 

View at Medium.com

View at Medium.com

View at Medium.com


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Saturday storms

It’s raining, a drink of water after parched days. The ground was littered with odd drops,  scattered randomly, before the thunder came and the heavens opened.

The rain always stops me in my tracks. I wait. I watch. I wonder. And my heart aches with some unfathomable feeling that soaks me to my core with a haunting want.

He is the one I think of when the rain falls, shattering itself upon the pavement. A Saturday morning with nothing but the sound of rain, and thunder in the distance. It’s always him I think of  — sitting end to end on a couch, reading. Or, notebooks open upon laps, jotting down something that comes to us, dialogue or a poem. I think of laying in his arms, just listening to the rain, not saying a word. I think of the intimacy of the moment and how completely I want that. I think of how this will never come to pass.

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Copyright © SirenSong1208

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Photograph taken from Pinterest, original source unknown.


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Paradox of the quiet sea

IMG_8670

My eyes take in the quiet sea,

appreciating the color and lines,

the clear view of the horizon.

The swells will come,

(this I know)

churning beneath the waves –

unseen but expected –

as I acknowledge that everything

is unsettled

and all I can do

is ride that wave to shore.

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Copyright © SirenSong1208

All rights reserved

Photograph taken by SirenSong1208

 

 


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Purgatory Road

I’ve not been to Heaven or Hell,

but I’ve travelled this Purgatory Road

far too long.

No amount of prayers,

or repentance,

has eased my steps

along this blazing, dusty path.

My internal compass points a way

I no longer believe in.

The fragility of that arrow

mirroring the hope I’ve held close

for what seems the entirety of my life.

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Copyright © SirenSong1208

All rights reserved

Photograph taken from Google Images