Thetis' Reprise

Watch as Peleus woos his shape shifter,

Braving all the forms of that free Ocean drifter.

Thetis refused

To be caught,

To be wooed.

But at the end of the tussle

We learn that his muscle

Was much mightier than her feisty refusal.

                        An unlikely Thetis,

                        I tested your will.

                        Tango till morning

                        Circling until—

Lost in the bluster and heat of it all

I stood there and watched that last fortress fall.

            Who thought that mortals could play that sea nymph’s game

            That it would be no God to put King Peleus to shame.

            Yet alas, at this moment when the sea nymph’s adrift,

            She looks back at the moments, her silver laugh shifts—

            It darkens and crumbles in memory by light

            But resumes with a tinkle and sparkles at night.

Let the blush rise to her playful cheeks,

Let her smile, let her thrill, let her knees go weak.

She’ll shift through her shapes and settle at one—

A make-believe predator till the sky lifts the sun.

And then once again, the cycle reruns

Sadness, a flutter, sweet dreaming begun.

            

Caer's Lullaby

          We're not exactly living in the time of fairies and satyrs anymore. But there are times when they traipse across the ages and whisper lullabies in your ear. The soul of a sprite is made of music, i discovered. And the one that hummed itself into my life yesterday is as haunting as the idea of Peter Pan's love for Wendy or some missing shard from the love of Tristan and Isolde. If you heard the way the heart of this one beats, you'd find yourself transported to the rolling meadows perched at the edge of a far-off, rocky shore. The skin of your feet would mingle with the cold earth and as you turned your eyes to the greying sky, this lullaby would possess you. 

Who hums it into your unconscious dreamings? Is it the lover coming ashore on the ship that never made it past the horizon? Is it the woman who whispered her promise to return but still wanders on the moor? Is it the child that you loved and swore to protect who, one day, disappeared leaving the churning sensation that she never existed.

This is not the slow lullaby of nightly comforts. It is not the conjurer of blankets and warmth and star-filled visions. It is, in fact, the other extreme. This is the haunting tune that will show you where the pit of your stomach really is by leaving the gift of a cold, formless fear there. The fear of loss that is imminent. And while the moment for that misfortune is not here yet, as the singing begins; it will be here, as soon as the last note is sung. And yet, you cannot bring yourself to say the words-- or hold them back-- that will make the clockwork stop. The desire to hear the whole song through is more hypnotic than the powerful urge to stop. 

Yet. This has become my favourite song; consuming me like a vampire urge to stalk the joyous parade. It's the fleeting second before panic, that weightless moment that gives you the chance to, maybe, turn back and appraise the situation with more care. But i will not look back. This siren song can call me to the edge of that cliff and beyond and i will follow...

It's not just my troubles, but my earthly trappings that i will leave behind.