Resisting The Siren

I I would refuse the siren's call, the beckoning of an earthen wall. Come, she sings, come with me, enchanting fog will set you free. II Instead I listen to the wind for it is not deception's kin. Its messenger is true and wise. Death awaits in mist and lies. III Life ascends on a spring breeze without a call for bended knees. Without demand, its quiet smile is a gift of love bereft of guile. IV A goddess and an evil scheme, a golden apple and a dream, still linger deep in Eden's shade until the time the debt is paid. V The alluring hiss of a pale serpent is resting there without dissent, torn between the earth and cloud, where hints of wisdom are avowed. VI Men, like snakes, are hypnotized by secrets in a maiden's eyes, the universe and mystery revealed as if she heard their plea. VII Still I never found the sage who could unravel in his age timeless knots of questioning fading love and seasons bring. VIII Planets turn and sirens call, men stand weeping at the wall, and voices whisper in the fall that is all of all, and that is all. IX Beneath an ancient hollow oak, I smile and mull an inner joke that knows what I cannot relate in setting suns that cannot wait. X The student has become the teacher, but deep within this muted preacher, now grown wizened, lame and weak, are secrets that I know to keep.