Awaiting the Muse…
Like a Metaphor, a Poem brushes my Lips
A Surge of Emotions waxes… Then stops
Before I can clutch the Ephemera, It slips
Bursting Dew into million Drops
Fighting the wild Thicket of Thoughts
Imploring the Jumbled Clouds to Clear
I Seek Inspiration to dawn its Brilliance
The Elusive Muse to abandon Fear
Crouching behind a Facade of Whimsy
She’s There, I Know… Just a trifle Shy
Her Delicate Heavings tug my Heart
Flirting the corner of my Eye
My Being thirsts Coherence:
minty floods of creative flush
to drown me in a Catharsis
of Passion, of Love, of Poetic Gush
Waiting for Music to Begin its Dance
Yearning for Symphony’s whisper to Start
Craving an Unknown Virgin Sequence
To impregnate the pores of my Arid heart
An ecstatic Pruning of Wordy Weeds
An Orgasm that Vacuums anew my Mind
diving Inwards the depths of Self
A few precious Pearls to find
Hope embeds the Folds of my Heart
Ideas incubate in the Womb of my Soul
Just a few hours…Or decades?
Before It is born — a cohesive Whole
Outside my Solitude I peep; And Breathe
Her Fragrance lurks Somewhere near
Hold a little longer, Don’t give up just yet
The Rainbow will Shape; There will be Cheer
Suddenly The Skies Rapture in Freedom
Clouds retreat, the Heavens Smile Clear
Gods from Above, shower Petals of Relief
The Muse is Here. Yes, She’s Here.
