Blue muse

Heart blue
Sand swept covers
Like words of pages
Torn from a book
Strewn about
Falling through the air
Rustle of paper
Covering what was never spoken.
Azure skies empty
Devoid of a bird
Of life it seems,
Yet stirring the mind
Thoughts stewing
Creative juice flows
Yet slow like honey poured
Out of comb to the waiting garden below.
I think of far off places
Seeing the table in Tuscany,
The small cafe,
Sipping wine with fine cheese
And crusty bread,
And just talking
Just being.
Mind gifts
Like treasured stone hearts,
Gifts of the muse
Beside the bowl of sand,
Alter of elements
Producer of visions,
Held in the hand
Blue shape of love.
I am gone for moments
Drifting of to somewhere
No notice given
Just gone
And I return with a quiet joy
For I went to the place of dreams,
Of words that are spoken
To the empty room and barren walls.
Words that are written
Moving faster than fingers they come,
And oh the wonder of it,
The mind,
The seepage of vision,
The pouring forth
Of the muse of an eternal mind,
The faucet with no handle
The stream that cannot be stopped.

Lovely thoughts came flying to meet me like birds. They weren’t my thoughts. I couldn’t think anything half so exquisite. They came from somewhere.”
― L.M. Montgomery, Emily Climbs

10 thoughts on “Blue muse

Your words are stars and I humbly thank you for shining your light for me....

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