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Song | Apr 06 2002

I’ve been listening to the same song over and over, and crying. As I listen, I imagine the singer is Rachel. “Now my foolish boat is leaning, broken lovelorn on your rocks.”

There’s a recurring theme in my writing of a man who does not know himself, or who fears he does not. Sometimes it seems like I’m tracing something, circling something. Am I too close to see it? Would I choose to see it if I could? Is there anything there to see, or am I merely tracing, circling an absence?

Song to the Siren (2.9 mb)

On the floating, shipless oceans
I did all my best to smile
til your singing eyes and fingers
drew me loving into your eyes.
And you sang “Sail to me, sail to me;
Let me enfold you.”
Here I am, here I am waiting to hold you.
Did I dream you dreamed about me?
Were you here when I was full sail?
Now my foolish boat is leaning, broken lovelorn on your rocks.
For you sang, “Touch me not, touch me not, come back tomorrow.”
Oh my heart, oh my heart shies from the sorrow.
I’m as puzzled as a newborn child.
I’m as riddled as the tide.
Should I stand amid the breakers?
Or shall I lie with death my bride?
Hear me sing: “Swim to me, swim to me, let me enfold you.”
“Here I am. Here I am, waiting to hold you.”