Seeking your Blessings

Oh Beloved Muse

Fickle as Fortune

Diaphanous as Luck

Neglected so

Unshun your humble servant.

My thoughts are not mine…

My words

Usurped

by my heart’s turmoil.

This is my undying promise to you:

Tirelessly I will toil my way

Through to you….

seek your ephemeral blessings

pay earnest obeisances

At your temple threshold

I’ll engrave your haloed name

In every verse…

I write, but….

I write but
Not compelled
Not awoken
Startled by the force
To feverishly pen
What flows
What bursts forward
To be read
I do not wake
The words caught
Under breathe
Recited like a
Newly wrought prayer
Its power still new
Still raw
Still strong in its conviction
To be heard…

My Muse

my muse

can hardly raise her heavily burdened head

chiding herself for not inspiring something all anew

there is only so much sorrow

to darken the day with

there is only so much joy to wet and wash it away with

and though sometimes

she paints a familiar theme

an oft defining scene

i am if anything a canvas

full of depth and blankness bereft

never left wanting

never left without

a touch of her healing colours