MUSE ( Unedited)
The muse that guides my heart is life itself. The mystery of that one thing, common to all, that touches me. I who see it everywhere, light, lifting the wrinkles of octogenarians faces with smiles filled with light or glowing softly as if woven from the touch of their eyes on the, unmarked skin of a newborn infant.
The eyes of parents that tell me that the child they are holding is their first, a look of wonder at a pleasant surprise, cars pulled over andpeople gathered to see a rainbow across the sky, the power of feelings; hope, grief, laughter and tears, filling me with the awareness that the capacity to feel is, in and of itself, a victory.
The million coincidences that hold life together and make meaning of mystery. Goosebumps and tears, silences and music.
Bright waves of Celtic fiddles song and the deep mystery of monks chanting. Long moments, sometimes days or weeks, when happiness is just a fact, the many colors of light on human faces, glancing across the water and in the every mood of the sky. The shiver of foreknowing when I feel the shape life makes and the surety as it brings me the knowing, the cool of water by the brook and the warmth of the stone where we lay after swimming naked, the purity of innocence that lights a path to walk with surety, the feeling that all is as my will calls it to be.
A light that I call upon when strong feelings grow that tells me what to say and how to go.
My muse knows what has lack and what is right, It walks with me and will until the day, when, I in that days light, wander away.