If Not for a Muse

One of my favorite poems that I have written about the writing process.

 

The hand anticipates

The coming of the muse

Gently the transfer begins

Subtle gliding of ballpoint

Bleeding on lifeless wildernesses.

Transforming thought

In sudden splurges

Of magnificent composition

Furious desire for perfection

Much like paint on canvas

Writhing at moments

To recollect forgotten phrases swept away

Over some precipice in the mind.

The satisfaction of creativity

A generous allotment

Paying homage in verse

To the one who inspires

From dimensions elsewhere

Perhaps some poet of old

Allowing in a brief moment

To gain insight

Frame it in words

Scribe it in ink

Giving spirit and immortality

To blank sheets of waiting paper.