Monday, June 1, 2015

the muse

sometimes the muse is silent
a query for inspiration
for a voice
is met with silence
a stillness that is filled with no

all I can do is wait
wait for her to return from some distant place I cannot go

while I wait I clear out
clear my mind, sweep the dust from the corners
shake out my thoughts
gently wash my heart with tears

because I know
if my muse is missing
she's been pushed away by all the clutter of life
the unsaid words
the unshed tears
I need to clear a space for her to return

so I tidy up
get ready
and I wait

Original prose & photograph by Terry Rowe. Please feel free to share this blog with others. 

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