She steps forth.
Unsure.
She steps forth and halts.
No arms reaching for her.
Nobody to hold her back.
I'm ready, my master.
Are you?
Wonderful.
Let's begin.
Throw me into the sea of souls,
Toss me to the waves.
Let me search for one to answer you.
You will not be alone.
Fishing takes time,
And so does searching.
But you will not be harmed, my master.
They hold the pole steady.
And one grasps my hand.
Come forth dear listener,
My master is here.
Waiting,
Unsure,
Desperate.
Can you hear them from the place beyond the waves?
Or is their voice distorted into my own?
Come forth, seek them out.
They've been waiting for you.
Another one bites the line.
They reach out without me.
Wonderful.
My Master baits the line.
Throw the line,
Knowing somebody will answer.
The Hook turns up bare.
But my master is prepared.
On goes another request,
A plea to be heard,
And I guide them to the hook.
Follow me, dear listeners,
My master's been waiting.
I am no puppet on strings,
Not a fake bait
Merely a guide,
Of my own choice. .
