daring the stranger

Image by misw via Flickrscars.
we know not that they will heal,
nor whether we want them to.
the memory of what hurt--
that painful ecstasy--
an indestructible monument to
the ebb
and the flow
and what's left behind by the tide
or the residual from the ride,
when we dare the stranger
to teach us something
we don't already know.

Siren of the Sea

On the hot breath of a warm sea
Comes a siren, silky white.
Her glide leaves no long remark
On the chalkboard of silent sand.
Toes drink from salty petals--
A ceremonious offer of nectar
From waves of great distance--
Who, once graced with hem and lace,
Return happily to their eternal row.
Eyes mirror overcast skies
Or cause reflection
On midnight's starry stroke
Never seen and neither heard
The ebb and flow of her tides
Pulled longingly on one heart
To give inertia for a bon voyage.