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Where did she go? I wonder.
For she is nowhere about.
I think she stepped into a quagmire, our muse offers.
This does not seem plausible. 
A muddy, mucky, grayish quagmire, our muse says meanly.

Willing myself into a deep sleep, I am determined to regain my soul.
She is within my dream state, in twilight hour, slipping into the sea.
Rejuvenating and replenishing herself.
She comes up from the depth of the sea 
More vital than ever, energized and renewed.
Turning sixteen shades of delight, more joyful than ever.

Have we found her? Muse asks, in a whispery voice.
Already knowing the answer.
We have I say, and it is not a contest.
I love you both; you are yin and yang.
Let’s play!


Written: April 23, 2020
Contest: Slipping Soul Sunsets Into the Sea
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke

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