Posts Tagged muse

Words pour forth
Clock ticks on
Night falls deeper

Must
follow
the
Muse

Words pour forth
Clock ticks on
Night falls deeper

Must
follow
the
Muse

On my Mind
March 28, 2009 by jill

She dies a little more
Each time
Following in the dark
A shadow drifting
Unnoticed

Across his frenzied life
Watching movements
As it unfolds
And still she wonders
With every word
He strokes

My muse has fled
In search of lost
Words
Untold stories
Unexplored worlds

In anxious
Desperation
I patiently
Wait
Return she will
In her own
Sweet time

Bringing gifts
Stimulating my
Mind
Enough to fill
This void
Inside

I remember those winters well; when the world turns a negative shade of grey, the suns vibrance diminishes to a bright, blinding white and the cold wraps around and holds you hostage. Seemingly surrounded by death at best; as depression settles deep within the confines of my soul; futile attempts, searching for a way out; hindered by storms of snow and ice; madness wrapping around, crippling my mind; inaudible screams driving me blind.

A distant, frigid memory; as I bask in the embrace of the warm southern sun; my soul awash in each colorful sunrise; hope-filled rays reflecting ocean waves; coloring my world, stimulating imagination; restoring my muse, from the brink back to life.

I revel in this sanctity; ever aware of those distant dreams and frost-bitten memories; the gripping numbness beneath the moon of madness; and that looming presence that brought me to this sanity…

Image: lostknightkg

The music strikes a cord, as rain falls steady outside your four doors; and you feel him suddenly, tugging at your soul. Memories come down like raindrops on the windshield; and you realize with gripping certainty, just how close you came to throwing it all away; for a stranger whose specialty was manipulating words; who didn’t just consume, but devoured every morsel; your heart, your soul, your poetry and prose; digging your mind, inspiring your muse, feigning a connection while loving your soul…

He went by
Many names
Though I never
Called him
Any

His reach was
Vast and potent
Though it lasted
For no time
At all

It amazed and
Dazzled
Then fizzled and
faded
Not unlike that
Of a fireworks
Display

And though my
Heart
Has long since
Forgotten
My muse still
Holds on
Strong

I came upon him in the woods; sitting on a bench nestled among a patch of wild ferns growing along the trail; dapples of sunlight playing on his face. I could tell, even behind sunglasses that his eyes were closed in quiet contemplation. Perhaps it was the tilt of his head or the relaxed posture of his shoulders; regardless, though I was surprised and delighted to find him there, I didn’t want to intrude.

I stood for a moment in silence, watching him; still trying to grasp the fact that he was actually there, when he patted the empty spot on the bench next to him and said, “Why don’t you come sit.” Only then, when I took a step toward him, did he look in my direction and smile.

“What are you doing here,” I asked. “What took you so long,” he replied.

I sat beside him; and after a moments hesitation I humbly answered, “I thought he was a sage, sent to help me find my way; turns out he was insane, and I, nothing but a pawn in one of his wicked games.” He shook his head slowly, as if he understood completely. “What exactly was it you were hoping to find?” I shrugged my shoulders, but he wasn’t buying it; still, I didn’t know what to say.

We sat for several minutes, basking in the natural wonders surrounding us; each lost in separate thought, both thinking the same thing.

“It’s easy to see that you’re on the right path; you just need to have a little more faith is all; but I can tell that faith doesn’t come easy for you, does it?” I shook my head, but said nothing. He took my hand and held it in his, “While I can’t guide you in matters of faith, I’ll be happy to help you in mastering your craft.”

“And how will you do that,” I finally asked. “By encouraging when you stumble, flounder and flail, and watching as you flourish, spread your wings and sail. I’ve been here all along, I’m not going anywhere; and if you allow me, I’ll be your confidant and friend…”

I moved a little closer, leaned my head on his shoulder; took a deep breath and let out a slow sigh of relief. “Thank you, Walter,” I whispered in my sleep.

Lightening struck and the balance was shifted; not once, but twice, and it all came down to him. He came upon her wandering barefoot in the garden, called out from beyond the shadows; and though she wasn’t able to see him clearly, something rang familiar in his deliberate words and voice, causing her to pause and look in his direction.

Trusting her instincts that continually warrant believing, she invited him in and soon found him worthy; offering a key, so as to come and go as he pleased. And soon he became her own personal Jesus; happy in letting her be her self, tell her stories while filling her head; with crystalline knowledge, beliefs and perceptions that altered her course and left her second-guessing.

An unexplained peace soon settled in her soul; the storm he conjured brewed with intense passion, though the clouds were lined with sadistic cruelty; leaving her desolate and changed forever.