The Siren Call

Love is a powerful instrument,
Making hearts compromise where otherwise they could not,
Bridging gaps whose distance was too far to span
Bringing together even the most opposite forces.

And my heart lies within me, waiting,
Waiting for what, I am not sure,
(Although love must play its part)
And sometimes growing weary.

So it will reach out, tentatively,
Not too confident lest it lose its balance
And fall outside of me before its time,
And against the timing of Providence.

And though there is much it does not understand,
It is content to wait, to be taught,
To find a heretofore unknown harmony
Just where it thought there was not music to be found.

It has found a great many melodies like that already.
But this heart can only love because of Love,
And if that Love is lost, its own flickering flame will grow cold,
And its love become lonely, dead, futile.

It has been wedded to that great Love
(When, I do not know; it came upon me so gradually)
And the beauty of that haunting melody has once resounded in my ears,
Finding its way to my heart.

It is far more than any Siren's song,
It leaves no room for anything else;
Without it my heart is barren, widowed,
Abandoned it must be if it abandons this Song.

So what must I do when faced with a paradigm,
When I hear my heart tugging for compromise,
Yet I cannot see how I could grant its request without bereaving it of its first Love?
Here with my Love I must stay; I cannot do otherwise.

I must make myself a gift to Him; I cannot leave Him
(says my heart)
I hear another beautiful call, yet it will only be truly beautiful
If it echoes the great Siren call, the Great Song of Love.

And so, here I wait, wedded to my Love,
Certain that this heart of mine will find no place it can rest apart from Him,
Perhaps saddened, for I see a glint of glory I do not recognize,
But one that I cannot follow without forsaking Him.

I cannot for a moment compromise that bond,
For if I do, all else, love and sacrifice, is cheapened.
And yet, if I am in any way wrong
In thinking there is no way for me to answer the smaller song
Without freeing myself from His embrace,

I can only trust that Love will show me love, and in it, Himself.
Until then, I am His. I will receive what he gives me,
But I cannot hide from His face,
I cannot....or I will die;
I will starve, suffocate, and try to sate myself with something less.

Nothing, no glory or beauty, no siren however lovely, however true,
Nothing can stand between me and Him--
Only echo His call.
Only then can I love anything but Love;
Only if I may first be His.

Give me Love; I will not have any replacement,
No intermediate point,
Unless it is leading me up to Him,
Reaching to me only so that I may reach Him - His embrace in disguise.

And His embrace -- oh, His embrace! -- will mysteriously fill with life all else,
I will be set free to love more than I ever could,
And to laugh at the beautiful irony,
That if I had abandoned Him for any love, however noble, I would have lost that too.