She is a siren when she sings, her voice playing on each of
us in a different way, shaping us all into an orchestra as she conducts us,
stirring us up, weaving us into her songs.
I hear her whenever I close my eyes, and feel her song touch
me in ways I never imagined anyone could, even though I know the songs she sings,
she wrote, are for someone remote, and yet, I must tie myself to the mast of
this ship, to keep from slipping into melancholy, a trance from which I know I cannot
escape, her voice seemingly so soothing, I am in her spell, she is the siren
who sings and whom we sailors cannot resist, this sea of doubt, this need, this
painful remembrance we suffer all this time later, and yet, we never cease to
listen
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