As he had ordered, so did she obey,
and when he motioned her to take the helm,
she did so, finding to her deep dismay
that even wordless, he could overwhelm.
While Esther kept the course they had begun,
an interval less lengthy than it seemed,
she watched as Ciral’s outlook came undone,
enchanted by the way his forehead gleamed.
When he at last looked up, the gleam had moved
into his eyes, and brightly he declared,
“Again I thank you, Esther, you’ve improved
the quarry that you thought you’d snared.
“I’m human, and I shall no more pretend
that I’m not subject to an inner tide.
It’s part of me, not something I can end
the way I waved away my weaker side.”
Another riddle. This time Esther guessed:
“So you’ll receive the Lord into your heart?
You’re ready, just like that, to be so blest?”
She was ecstatic—this would be her start.
His laugh, though gentle, slipped between her ribs.
“Although I know why God is held so dear,
I can’t believe what I know to be fibs.
I shan’t pretend. Did I not make that clear?
“Your way of thinking wants to replicate.
As well mine does, and I’ll no longer fight
my nature. To be like you is my fate.
This, strangely, is more powerful than spite.
©2011 Louis A. Merrimac
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