The Muse Within

I look around and see so much to do, but my muse calls to me like a voice of light in the darkness. 

Dishes to do, laundry to fold...but my muse won't let me go.

He calls to me at the most inconvenient times. In the shower.  When I'm cooking dinner.  When I'm visiting friends.

In the midst of work, he calls my name...and I know better than to ignore the call.

My heart is open and ready to bleed at the slightest provocation.  Vulnerable...so vulnerable am I. 

Like a wellspring about to burst open, so is that which is inside of me.

What is this that abides in me?  This relentless passenger that dwells in my heart is my friend, my enemy and I both welcome and curse him in one breath.

He leads me to places I don't know of.  He opens doors I never dreamed of.  He digs deep into my pain and releases it all into joy.

He is my friend and my lover.  He is all that I am or want to be...and he is all that I despise.

He frees me from myself and helps me rise above.

He frees me from my loftiness and plunges me into darkness, giving me the courage to face my fears.

He plays with the child in me and makes the woman in me scream in ecstacy.

My muse is always with me...always pushing, pulling, calling to me.

Sometimes he is a welcome guest and sometimes he is a faceless intruder.

But he is necessary either way, and only with him can I flow.