An Ode To My Muse

My muse, inspirations personified, does one confuse? My shoulder naked, where once she sat, no, she’s still there, yet silent I fear. Even the power of telepathy gone. Have I done wrong? Her eyes of jet, once I could read, blank me. She turns, we both look out beyond infinity. I know not what she seeks. I scan, but tis a void I see. She turns again, looks into my eyes, I see India, Mumbai A tear, a longing, she begs for me to say, goodbye. I do, and heartbroken, I shed a tear, and look. then I ask, why? Too late, she was gone. I looked again into the beyond. Blew her a goodbye kiss. She will still be my muse. For her spirit will always be my inspiration to write my poetry!