Blame comes
like the sirens’ song.

“Join us,” they chant.
“Still the ache.
Be free.
End the war.”

Loud, insistent,
incessant.
“Take the blame.
Hate yourself.
If you love your life,
you’ll lose it.
Take the blame.
Take the blame.
End the war.”

Everything in me
wants to leap overboard.

But You
grab my shoulders,
tie me to the mast,
cover my ears with Your big, soft hands,
lock Your wide eyes on mine.

My torso, arms and legs
fling against the ropes,
struggle for release,
until
the sirens and jagged rocks
become
fainter, smaller.

Until
all is silent,
save the lap of waves,
the tick of hearts,

and the ache
asleep
in the back of the boat.  

O, Compassionate One, You reached
from on high, You took me,
You drew me out of many waters.
You delivered me from my fears
that bound me, and
from ignorance that blinded me;
for they threatened to overcome me,
to separate me from You.
–Psalm 18: 16-19,
Nan C. Merrill,
Psalms for Praying, An Invitation to Wholeness (paraphrased)

Credits and References:
Herbert James Draper – Ulysses and the Sirens (1910) from Picryl. Creative Commons.
The Sirens’ Song by E Hizsa, 2026
Ship Sailing at Sunset in Aruba by Trey Ratcliff. Used with permission.

© Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim, 2026.
The unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without permission from Esther Hizsa is prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used provided there is a link to the original content and credit is given as follows: © Esther Hizsa, An Everyday Pilgrim 2013-2026.  http://www.estherhizsa.com