Narcissus and Echo

Echo had the last word
And it was your word.
She said, “Caress me,”
After you said death would be better
Than that she should caress you.

She loved you, but you had your thing
Even after all that “avoid me not.”
You, child of the ever-moving river, kept on,
While she, child of the mountain,
Grieved in her cave.

Such was her love,
Such was your beauty.

She got it.
You did not.

You moved on.
She stuck around, and Pan taught her
His songs,
Freeing her
From Hera’s curse of voicelessness.

You can’t always know who will deliver you.
But you can know better than to resist
When deliverance comes.

You came to love yourself,
And that was great,
But you never quite kicked open your doors
To the fullness of love.

But Echo waited.
Despite you, she sang your song.

Through her,
You outlive death.
To those wonders about you that you never named
She gave voice
That your love might go beyond yourself.

This is everything.
Call it love.