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My Siren Sings For Me


Man is dream, thought an illusion, only rock is real. Rock & Sun. ~Edward Abbey

The longing bubbles up every year or so, more frequent as I age and understand the essence of love lofted on the quiet voice of my siren. I have been trying to turn a deaf ear to for months now but simply cannot tune her out, cannot free my soul from the talon like grasp of her voice.

“Come, David. Come to me. You know you need me. Only I can make you whole. Why do you resist?”

Her words ring true, truer than I like to admit. She is the red rock desert, an expanse of rock and sun and solitude. My ground zero. The place I get naked, lay naked on stark rock, under blistering sun, immersed in solitude, and feel the presence of God.

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