Waiting For the Muse To Come
My eyes were diverted
my mind taken back
Her presence upon me
her breath an attack
There’s no sense in running
with no place to hide
Although rare in the daylight
her message alive
My pen comes out quickly
and drawn like a sword
Each word spoken plainly
and pointed toward
My life now a capsule
exploding like hail
The light towing blindness
the comets new tail
Last phrases are written
my senses return
I feel her leave slowly
my pen it still burns
I look down at the page
to see what I wrote
The handwriting foreign
familiar once spoke
“Your life but a dream
between wisps of my breath
“Once spoken inside you
beyond life and then death”
(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2018)
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