The Importance of Muse

Muse’s importance,
May not be adequately expressed in words,
Nor felt by any who can not comprehend,
The sweet power of creation,
The eclectic and electric energy that dazzles,
For Muse,
You come to me,
Guided by the countesses of universal law,
Father Time presents you,
Though reminding me of these mortal attempts,
At indiscriminate immortality,
As with glee those ladies of my night,
Mistresses Destiny and Fate,
Provide without excuse or equivocation,
A bright smile that guides my thoughts,
A deliciously engaging pair of eyes,
That alight my fingers to fly across these keys,
In human form you have taken many bodies,
Though more importantly minds that tickle my sensibilities,
And I am humbled for your love.

From you Muse,
I gain insights into myself and the world around me,
Converting that raw and special energy,
Into these beautiful and sometimes tragic words I write,
Never fickle,
Always graceful,
You reveal the world to me,
Five or seven or ten minutes at a time,
The way I’d like to be,
Rather than the way it is,
And in the warm embrace,
As between two lovers,
You reveal the majesty of these things I do,
I am taken aback for the more I know of you,
The more I know you,
The more I know myself,
Though the world become another mystery,
As in an instant,
These words manifest,
Muse by this proclamations name,
Serendipity, a writer’s best friend and more.

My love for you is as profound and unmapped,
As the love of mother,
Father, sibling or child,
There is no telling from where or whence you came,
Or come,
But when you do I get the excited exasperations,
Of an intellect run wild,
Searching not for words which in your presence so readily come,
But for meaning,
Allowing me to touch others,
As you touch me,
The treasured gift that you bestow,
Bequeathed to me in these moments that you arrive,
Also from me bestowed to searching souls the world over
My dear sweet Muse.

Muse’s importance,
Is akin to breathing,
Or eating,
Drinking water,
Or shelter from the cold,
Muse is an exhilarating joy ride,
Whereby comprehension takes a back seat,
To that place inside my soul,
That even I cannot engage,
Only Muse,
Blessed Muse,
That piece of me is reserved for you and only you,
You are the alpha and the omega of my creative thrills,
You are my deepest love,
My greatest satisfaction,
My precious commodity that I hold onto fast and true,
I hold you in esteem unknown to any but you and I,
Though shared without cupidity.

My Muse,
So many there have been,
Wonderful all,
And when you arrive,
I take heed and notice,
Of your precarious ways,
Filtering through me the voices of the ether,
To jubilant appreciation.

I adore you,
I lay at your feet expectant of your sumptuous impressions,
I bow before you,
As Writer and Warrior Poet first,
As man of the world second,
Seeker of life third,
A list that could continue in perpetuity,
As you always seem to come,
Just as my writer’s reward is most bright,
I beckon you,
Come forth once more,
That I may delight you,
Your preeminence clear,
Treasured secret Muse,
My one true love.



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