Siren Call - 12-20-08

I cry out to you, one last final gasp from my chewed-up energy and dimming hope. I open my mouth wide and let fly with a voice that for an instant knows nothing of weariness and defeat. My voice goes winging out, far beyond myself, rippling outwards to houses and doorways and empty streets in a desperate effort to be heard before the waters roll up to fill my open mouth. You’re out there. You want me. You are for me. You can hear me. No one else will hear me, like a keening only dogs can hear. You are the only one who can hear this, can feel the subterranean vibration made by my spirit. You feel it and know somehow that strange sound, that unexplained sense, is for you. Now you are called. Now you must come. You must smash the ice that rims my heart. You must breathe over my numb insides so I can thaw and feel. Yes, it is you I call. I am talking to you. You are indeed the one to respond to the call. I have just a little spirit left in me, just a last swipe of hope around the insides of the glass that frames my heart. I scrape it out and fling it out just as I stumble. You are there. You are for me. You are the One. And now I am spent, lying perfectly still, barely breathing. Eyes closed and chest moving shallowly

.

I am not what I was supposed to be; neither am I who I can be. I have thrashed through my life, thinking a lifetime’s worth, trying to change that truth. And I finally accept that I cannot be all I could be until you come to my side and wake me up. You will make me wife, make me mother. You will make me belong, make me fit in finally with all the others. You will make me not alone. You will take what I have to give. You will be my future. You will make me finally bloom.