It’s a Tuesday, or Wednesday evening or whatever night it is that I have some writing assignment due and I can’t seem to sit there and just make myself type the words. in my head I find myself running again, chasing the ever elusive inspiration, or more so muse-inspiration’s trickier cousin. Expertly evading, constantly changing, where are you tonight? Finding muse isn’t necessary per se it sort of just happens like a shock that hits you. Keeping muse is where skill is required. It’s sort of like charming a cobra, trying to keep things entertained and not getting struck with a lethal bite at the same time. Keeping muse in motion is a lot like seduction, for it to work nothing can be too blunt, every step, every move, every word must be executed in a tactful manner. So here I am, banging on door after door with a loud fist looking for a sliver muse that I can use, or at least inspiration which will tell me how to get there. I have my column I think to myself, and my blogs, I have to write. I tell myself I have to write. Out the window behind me the dark sky begins to cry.
Trickling serenity
down the window pane.
So it begins.
I listen
because I can’t
do anything but
listen.
I’m in this trance.
Lulled by rain dance.
So it pours.
I wish to jump in,
to run, to roll, to
kiss the rain;
to be kissed in the rain.
But I don’t because
I won’t get that close.
I’m swarmed
with warm air.
Fingertips stroking the few
drops that draw near.
Threading over my skin
through the balcony screen.
This is
as close as
I get tonight.
The storm is here.
Such a dark, dreary
hypnotic aurora.
This place I love,
this place I fear.
The sky rolls and shouts
and cracks about.
The storm is here.
I listen because
I can’t afford not to listen.
And I watch because
I have to.
Look at that one there!
That strike of light so close to here.
My goodness what a sight.
There’s nothing like that light,
nothing like it,
not tonight.
Voltage striking like a whip that would make the sun screech.
I stand alone,
captivated by the voltage making the sky breech.
Notice how they never do this together?
A storm I mean,
there’s no sun but there’s
so much light.
So much, so fast.
Don’t blink or the crash
will tell you,
“you’ve missed it.”
You’ve missed this amazing
string of electricity,
that pounds so much power so quickly.
Keep your eyes open darling.
I think the sun fears the storm just as
I sometimes do.
In an instant, the world is
whiter than white.
Absolute power cloaked in solitude.
Such meekness.
Sets the mood.
An unbelievable, impossible-to-ignore-presence.
It holds me, in arms of zeal
and shoulders of fortitude.
I can’t go anywhere,
I can’t budge
from a hold like this
and even the part of me that wants too;
The part that shivers,
with goose bumps, and a racing heart,
will just have to make do.
Tonight I won’t go
anywhere
because here is where
I stay with you.
In one moment I was simply there.
Now I’m here and
It’s all so different
and,
I’m so happy,
and
I’m so scared.
Don’t ever leave.
I don’t know
what this is but God,
I want it
to stay.
When it stops and
I come to, I don’t know
what to do because
it’s dark
and I can’t seem to say
but only think where are you?
Then I hear the quiet
speaking in whispers and
I think, maybe
that’s you.
In the damp dark
there’s only remnants
of what happened.
Just as it fades to what was rain
I have think, it’s over now,
It’s over now, right?
Yes, it is, it’s over now.
Then there’s a soundless flash
of finality,
like a photo snapped for memory,
and I am forced to wait
until it happens again.
Mindless Peace 