Muse ( A Love Story)

My thoughts played with this idea all day. Not sure I'm completely happy with the mood of this... may alter it a little.

A frail, pale and curious girl of eight was I, that first cloudy afternoon when Muse began to whisper into my ears. Amazing stories that couldn't yet be rendered on paper by my small and unskilled hands traveled aimlessly through my wondering mind. Sometimes I tried to capture these on paper. I never could quite get them right. Usually, it still feels the same when she is whispering to me softly, sweetly, calling me to dance with her. Sometimes, our waltz together leads me to a wondrous and enchanted realm. Other times, it leads me to something so much fouler than any description of hell that it could have no name. Regardless, throughout my life Muse has been my sole steadfast companion, and therefore, I have loved her.


Muse has gone away on holiday from time to time, leaving my mind to its own devices. At these times I felt bereft, cold,  though of course I suppose I should have felt some sense of liberation, having finally been left alone with my own mind's musings. Although, I've never liked being completely alone. Perhaps this is why the lady first chose me as her hands, her voice. Muse knows that I've often needed her presence to simply feel whole.


Today, poor Muse sheds tears, flooding the hall as she passes, leaving the aura of her sadness as a cover of fine, dark ash on everything but myself... I am no longer touched by her words, and she is packing her things to leave. I would say that I will miss her, but her replacement is always the foremost thought in my mind. Love, he makes me shiver in the grandest ways, and the warm silken blanket of fantasy Muse always tried to cover me with no longer holds its appeal.

No longer will Muse regale me with folklore, romances, or whirling amusement. The touch of her hand leading me into a world of pure emotion... angst, betrayal, jealousy, rage, temptation, desire, apathy, self-destruction... I will not miss that touch, much as I once longed for it.

Love's caress has changed my vision, the entirety of my senses. He makes me the self I was always meant to be, the one that Muse often helped to obscure beneath her flights of fancy. Truth is all that I find within our conversations, yet truth can be more fascinating than wild tales, if they are woven properly. I can still write... I can write the truth now, express a wider reality.

As Muse disappears against the new horizon, I hold Love's hand, gently moved by the thumping of his heart, which I can hear without getting too close. Poetry moves within me, and most of it... I don't bother to try expressing.

Farewell, genteel Muse... may you find the next lost soul who needs you. This woman has been found.

Reviews

[Steve Cook]

What a lovely metaphor for growing up! I believe the tone of your piece is spot on.

[Sri Gawn Tu Fahr]

Beautiful and haunting..... powerful imagery.

[clemon73]

I love this piece, very poetic. Your word choice and description is superb. Always a joy to read your work.

[Narnie]

True to my heart. Perfectly expressed and such a strong message of turning. There are some lovely poetic phrases hidden within too. I think I have a whole bunch of muses and they all tap me on the shoulder begging for attention. I have to shush them down one by one until I find the right one that fits my mood in that moment.

[Ellen Hammond]

I love how you personified Muse and Love in this story! Love can certainly be great inspiration for writing, as you have just demonstrated. This is really a very enjoyable read.

[Francez]

Original! I like how you personify Muse and Love. And yes, as amusing as Muse can be, real love that you experience yourself is far better than fantasies.

[just rose.]

A deeply personal relationship expressed here. Very lyrical.

[The Rock And Roll Cowbo..]

That was fantastic... so much of it I cal relate too... sometimes I feel as if someone is writing through me, not sure of what I am writing myself... I must say that love has always been the greatest inspiration and it joys me to see it has found you.

[Arthur Henn]

Constance. I don't know what to say. I fell in love again with muse. I'll never look upon her as an attraction of what my mind sees, but as a true relationship with the inner soul of this readers muse.... A love affair with her words.

I really liked what you have done here with this writing... Superb!

A favorite of mine.

[Bette]

this is wonderful i love how you made muse and love people! invention.