My Muse 

​I kissed strangers 

In search of the right spark within.

I embosomed pain to unveil the spheres of agony

And found my muse underneath. 

I grew flowers to watch them suspire

And wrote about the morning dew and the fragrance of spring,

I emptied the brimming glasses of wine and danced to the rhythm of love all night. 

I listened to the sea waves breathe stories of the lost and the found, 

I sat by the fire all night watching the burning wood return to the brown it was cooked up from. 

I witnessed the sky change color and doodle figures across the skyline,

I saw men painting lies with blood and selling them at higher price. 

I packed my bags, wore my trekking boots and took up journeys uphill, 

I tried to glue the autumn leaves to the tree it belonged to.

I wrote pages after pages 

Describing the emotions that brushed against my skin, 

I burned incense sticks, candles and smoked green herbs for some spiritual feel. 

I tattooed my soul with blossoms and tragedies, 

I watercolored dreams and grieved when the raindrops smudged the colored wings. 

I fell in love every time something new I explored, 

I am fortunate enough to have found my muse in every little thing I uncloaked.

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12 responses to “My Muse 

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