Siren Whispers

Siren Song




It is a light sought

Seen at a distance

Reflecting off the Fresnel lens

Shining clearly


Corner to corner

East to West

North to South

Sharp and true

A beacon in a tempest

A brilliant warmth in a whisper

To lead me through shallow shoals

Away from rocks

And that which would decimate me

Into deep waters

And safety

In the unknown

The light I seek

Is within me


©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph taken from Pinterest




I will not speak to you through my words.

though you will find my answer there.

I will give you my voice


and irresolute

replete with the cracks and inflection of emotion

as I battle myself

and allow a dismantling of this mighty fortress I’ve erected.

Each stone removed

giving way to vigorous expression of thought

becoming certain

urged on by the slight presence of fingers

at the small of my back.

No guide

simply assurance.


©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph taken from White Noten



Making sense


Why does everything have to make sense


Are we so impatient with time that we need to rush through life

at breakneck speed

blinders on

focused on the finish?

Can we not allow ourselves the time to savour the moments

some breathtaking

some painful

some soothing

and some that arouse every fiber of our being

reminding us what it means to be alive…

Are we just numb? Are we too cynical? Are we afraid?

Do we take for granted those blissful moments that colour memories with joy and passion?

Do we tell ourselves that it was just an illusion

and didn’t mean anything?

Does that help us sleep at night

content and smug in our keen sense of survival?

Why do we feel like we must discard anything that seems challenging?

Are we so afraid of risk and chance and the possibilities that we can’t yet see

that are still ahead of us

that we struggle with what we don’t know

and we give up

well before we should.

Are we unwilling to take those extra steps to see what lies around the next bend

what we might find waiting for us upon the horizon?

Why are we so afraid of letting life seduce us?

Why do we refuse to listen to the voice inside, the one that jumps up and down with happiness

when we find something sublime

and unexpected

but immediately question its validity

or our own worthiness.

Are we so afraid to be happy 

that we retreat

refusing to fight for what we need

what we deserve

what we want?

How does that make sense?


©SirenSong1208 ~ 2017

Photograph taken from Tumblr



A year.


A year.

12 months.

365 days.

Anniversaries can be happy occasions, commemorating a special event, but they can also be a marker on a timeline.

A gauge of changes made.

Once there was a path that stretched out before you, endlessly it seemed, but now you can look back and see how far you’ve come.

Life changed a year ago, in ways that I could only imagine.

You never really understand how monumental change will be until you are in the midst of it.  There is fallout, great and small, and decisions that need to be made, continuously.  It’s a perpetual pivot of action and reaction. 

Things that should be part and parcel of growing up are now complicated and messy and filled with more questions than a test booklet.

No matter how much research and preparation you do, you feel off balance, always trying to strike a balance between assurance and uncertainty.

But you get there.  Or partly there.  You’re on the path.  Trying to take in stride each fork in the road, each dip and hole, or frankly, no path at all.  And you struggle.  Silently.  Because what would it do to scream or rage?  So you swallow it.  And it escapes in your dreams, it wakes you, it distracts you, it keeps your emotions bubbling just beneath the surface.

And you manage this along with other painful trials and tribulations.  Some you must keep secret.  Some you must weather on your own, silently.

And then the day comes.  A year.  Was it really a whole year?  And you look at them and you see the changes that the year has wrought.

You see that they are happier than they were.

You murmur a prayer of thanks.  And you find hope and promise in the coming year.

Because you know that there are more hurdles.

But you’ve got this.



Photograph taken by Chris Ford 





I remember days of such closeness,

when I could talk to you about anything.

You were my best friend.

The one I could trust above all others.

You always told it to me straight, 

never mincing words, 

but always being kind.

The message was always delivered 

with love.

You always knew, 

even without me saying, 

when something was wrong.

As I got older I kept my troubles to myself, 

telling you only after the fact, 

never wishing you to worry.

But now when I need your words most,

when I need the comfort that only a mother can bring,

you are drifting away from me,

your memory fading

your grasp on the here and now


and no matter how fast or hard I paddle

I cannot get any closer to you.

The fog is settling upon the water

and you are disappearing from view.


Photograph taken from Pinterest



That’s my superpower


I‘ve no superhuman powers of deduction.

I don’t have a magic rope

that lassos truth and information from others.

It is true that I am intuitive,

very much so,

but my actual power lay

in listening,

in paying attention,

in noticing subtle details

and filing them away,

in understanding,

but above all

I know how to put those pieces

I’ve been given

I’ve discovered

I know how to put them together.

To solve the riddle,

to finish the puzzle,

to often give me answers

which are not forthcoming

in any other way.

Being highly aware and accepting of others…

that’s my superpower…


*Not new but always relevant, and not limited to a month or a year but ever present.


Photograph taken from WhiteNoten


The lure to ride the waves


I wish to be on a board in the sun.

The swells of the sea undulating beneath my open thighs

As I scan the horizon

It’s peaceful

And yet exhilarating

My memory is strong

Three summers gone

The board is long

And unwieldy

As I am not used to its length

Or weight

It was purple and white

I recall an intense feeling of excitement

Building within

One for the bucket list

A girl of the sea

I had always been

But had never taken the plunge

And ridden the waves before

At least

Not on my feet

The adrenaline that I feel

Being tossed and turned by

The ocean’s current

Should frighten me

Make me more cautious

But I’m addicted to that high

The way it makes me feel


When I emerge from the surf


And breathless

But balancing upon fiberglass

And the power of the sea

That was a new test

As with everything new

I was focused

As well as thrilled and nervous

But I was all in

And all in it turned out to be

I’d ride the waves to the shoreline

Flying off into the water

Before I made land

Laughing and paddling out to try once more

Except for that last time…

Like every other attempt

 I caught the swell

And rode the wave to shore

But that final time it came faster

The surging current swiftly moving inland

Like a bullet train

And I was caught off guard

My board hit the sand

Flinging me off

Pitching me face first into the sand

A horrifying sight I’m sure

To those sitting there

I managed to stand up

Sand in my mouth

And my head ringing from the impact

Not realizing the damage I had done

The wounds caused

And just how lucky I had been

But despite the danger

Despite what happened

The lure to ride those waves again

Tugs at me

As the ocean does to the shore


*Continuing with my (apparent) aquatic theme, this is not new but from two summers past. And the lure still tugs at me.


Photo taken from Pinterest