Mysterious Muse

Could my muse be so complex a being That his inner drive remains in creating music Music which would hypnotize lions Music which would wake in me, the mystic Music which would sing always, of the mystery That inhabits life and all creatures that walk through it! Could my muse be some sort of savior Imbibed with the power of assembling creatures As mighty as crocodiles Crocodiles which would turn all meek Caring not even to try to slash lions And to swallow flamingos! Why, if my muse were such, I would have readily Knelt in front of him and offered him all the parts Of my sorrowful and God yearning heart! Pray, could my muse be one who cared not about his nakedness Caring, rather, solely to imbibe the whole of existence With his angelic hymns While fully aware that nudity can be seen as a purity When lusty thoughts about it cross not the minds Of onlookers Why, if he were such, I am pretty sure that music and its essence Itself would have flocked to him! Pray, the world remains as it is because some power Wants it to But, things can change See, mighty carnivorous beasts can turn all meek Muses can leave their abodes to tend to mortal Beings like you and me And nudity can become acceptable as an attire! But, in the very end, the grip that music has over us Shall remain that which it has always been Why, music, when played by muses of mystery Can bid one's soul to want to leave one's body To kiss the stars, out of ecstatic joy At being alive Before returning and nesting in its usual place! Pray, my muse, high up in the clouds, remains A being of the unknown, and Should I someday know of his essence I do wonder, if he shall be as such! For Contest Poems that Paint a Picture Written on 8th October 2017