The Origin of the Siren’s Song
Molly Hedgepeth
 

Our story begins
When the sea exhales
A sleepy gust of misty air
Birthed from the yawning mouth
Of Mother Pacific

The sea breeze journeys
From coast to coast
Whistling an airy tune
And somewhere along the way,
A fluttering feather is loosed
From the wing of a great bird
And made an unwitting passenger
Of that impetuous sea breeze

With its brilliant white strands
Reflecting the sun's kiss
Down upon the lustrous waters
And back up again,
The gossamer plume
Breaks apart the monotonous
Expanse of that grey morning sky
And from the shore
It appears as if
A falling star is dancing on the horizon

It is a beautiful thing
To be buoyed up by the sunshine
Made light as air
Without worry
To exist in a state of lightness
Wrapped in nothingness
And free of weight

And for that blessing,
The feather begins to fall for the wind
Indeed, love can be a heavy burden.
And soon enough the feather
Is fully consumed in admiration
For something incapable of loving it back

For the wind cannot love,
It can only move
And it moves the feather so,
Touches it so very deeply,
It begins to drip with admiration
For the very thing keeping it afloat

An angel’s wing falls
From its kingdom in the sky
And as with many things,
The feather is transformed
By the wisdom gained
From its descent.

By the time
The radiant white plume
Touches upon the sandy shore
It is no longer a feather
But the ghostly visage of a woman
Transparent as sea glass
With skin as fair as her brethren’s wings.

The knowledge of her fall
Has cursed her
With a form incapable of flight.
The wind stings against fresh skin
Still untouched by fear
And the feather is suddenly aware
Of its grave mistake.

To hold so tightly
To relish so greedily
In the touch of the wind
To want it forever for itself,
To put hopes of eternity
Into such a capricious force
Which no one can contain
Which has no form.

Above
Seagulls chuckle and chortle
Shattering the haunting silence
Of heartbreak’s first realization
With their mocking laughter
They look upon the figure
As a foolish trespasser,
Once so pure white
She blended with the clouds
Now beneath them in every way

And as their jeering snickers
Fill the ears of the feather woman
She sways upon unsteady feet
And sea salt tears run down her cheeks
Shame is born on her tongue and the first song is sung
A song of unrequited love
So mesmerizing
So eternally piteous in nature
The sea is stirred to the very ocean floor,
And is awakened from its slumber

The ocean stretches its fingers
It strains its neck
It ebbs and flows
In an effort to hold
That injured creature
To cradle it in its arms
And give it comfort as a mother does

And so
The ocean sweeps the woman to her breast
And hold her close to her heart
Filling her lungs with care,
With comfort
Smothering her with maternal sensibilities
And the feather sinks further still
Drowning slowly
Down to the ocean floor

And with that descent she is transformed yet again
It seems what was well intentioned
Is proven curse over blessing
And now the willowy birdlike frame
Of that fallen angel
Grows a tail and gills
In order to move and breathe the sea
The daughter of the sky
Fallen to earth
By way of heartbreak
Is taken captive below
Where she becomes
What was never intended to exist

To this day
You can still hear the haunting tune
Of the Sirens song
If you lean into the sea breeze
With tears on your cheek
And heartbreak on your mind
The comfort of knowing
You are not alone in your suffering
Will call you into the ocean’s
Open arms
To join the seafolk below
The beauty of their melancholy melody
Pulls you in
So that you might never feel pain again
Or
Feel anything at all

It is all too human to feel,
But if you are lucky
The twisting screech of the seagulls snickers
May wake you from your reverie
And you will go about your life with gratitude
Muffling that hole in your heart
Where the sirens song still echoes.