The Sisters

What did the sisters think, when once they found Their land-struck sibling left them, surface-bound, To find the prince and try to make him see That the girl who rescued him was she? Did they know what happened to their friend? Did they know her swimming days would end? Or was it that the sisters were afraid To learn the deal their youngest sister made? Did they know it was their sister’s goal To earn his love and an eternal soul? From life to death, three hundred years they roam Throughout the sea, and then return to foam. For the youngest, this was not enough, And so her voice and tongue did she give up. With her final swim, she fled to shore, Then drank her potion, and then she swam no more. What did her older sisters think that day, When they found out their sister ran away? Did they assume that she was on the land, Or did they not know what their sister planned? Still, on the shore, her human legs did walk, Though with no voice, the mermaid couldn’t talk. The prince did not believe that it was she Who rescued him that night upon the sea. Each mermaid, on the day she turns fifteen May swim to shore, to see what they have seen - Their merfolk ancestors who swim below - There to learn what their ancestors know. One saw icebergs, one saw children, too, And yet they never could know what she knew - That humans aren’t all bad, and that they love. How that mermaid longed for land above! The ‘foundling,’ as he called her, danced away, And mourned for all the things she longed to say. The pain of sharpened knives could not come near To the silence of the words she longed to hear. Did the sisters know what there transpired When the prince’s love for her expired? Did they know he thought he had been saved By a human girl, not a mermaid? The sisters, somehow, soon found out the choice She made, the deal that took her tongue and voice. The sisters swam together into hell, The lair of the Sea-Witch, to get a spell. The price they paid to change their sister’s fate Was not their voices, nor their gliding gait. With the shears unsheathed and sharpened, there The Sea-Witch cut off all the sisters’ hair. On the day before the prince would wed, The little mermaid danced until she bled. The pain of sharp swords would have split apart Her legs, had she not such a broken heart. The sisters swam toward the gleaming ship And prayed their sister would accept their gift. But the princess could not hurt her love; She would not use the knife to shed his blood. The time was nearing sunrise, so she stood, Then doing what no mermaid ever could. Not lacking bravery, but lacking bliss, She left, giving the prince’s wife a kiss. With her last breath, for happiness she yearned; Her sisters crying as to foam she turned. She flew into the sky and met them there, The ones they call the Daughters of the Air. They spoke to her and made her understand That many a young mermaid longed for land. But with broken hearts, were not made whole, Any mermaid who longed for a soul. So for three hundred years they fly in through The windows of sad children; there they do A kindness to the children, a relief, And if they fail this task, they come to grief. If they can save a tear without pretense, They subtract a day from their sentence. And so the mermaid, giving up her pride, Reached to the clouds, and for the first time, cried. What did her sisters say? What did they think? Were they surprised, or did their spirits sink? Would they still be distraught if they had known Grace like that to which their friend had flown? The sisters, I think, understood the choice That made the mermaid give away her voice. The sisters must have realized the love That made her seek to live on land above. In the sea, with foam and waves and weeds, Longing for her, they lived their centuries; Yet, living in the deep, they shed no tears, And turned to foam after three hundred years.