Oh Muse,
Where are you hiding?
Shall we play like
little children?
Or shall we be
adult about it?
I seek you but you are
just out of my grasp.
You are the scent
on a lover’s bedsheet.
The extra coffee cup
on the kitchen counter.
An incomplete song, missing
that one note.
Oh Muse!
Come out wherever you are!
I want to hold you like a lover.
Tenderly and passionately.
I want to paint you with
all the colors of creation.
I want to climb a mountain
and behold your view.
Oh Muse,
Why do you hide from me?
I search for you in the bottom
of a bottle.
I listen for you in the music
of a sonata.
I read your words in the
book of another.
Oh Muse! Why are you
forsaking me?
I hear your whispers
at night.
I see a blank page to write on,
a score to be started!
I see a blank canvas,
a raw block of marble.
Oh Muse!
Why do you pain me so?
Have I been inattentive to
your needs?
I am I not a worthy
man?
I crave your touch!
A single touch!
I feel the air still.
I see you.
I write.