My Muse

You.

You did it.

Without knowing, you did it.

What I feel, without knowing, you did it.

You.

You made it.

My heart beating fast, you made it.

What I hear, my heart beating fast, you made it.

You.

You created it.

My mind racing, you created it.

What I think, my mind racing, you created it.

You.

You sense it.

Without admittance, you sense it.

What I am, without admittance, you sense it, too.

Without my muse I fear I would have never learned to breathe. To write. To be me.  My Muse held my hand when no one else was looking… Many of my poems are tagged, My Muse, it is, indeed, for a reason. The strength I feel is because of that sort of devotion. Imagine only needing to hear, “Hey, that was ‘easy’ to read,” from someone who also needed to hear those simple words. Tis how friendships are born…

11 thoughts on “My Muse

  1. Good morning Audrey Dawn – Of course, you must have ‘sensed’ my attempt to ‘hide my request’ within a comment, while I linger with anticipation of discovering the place where your ‘thoughts are hidden’… but of course, I am sure that your telepathic abilities have probably already advised you that I would do so. As I anxiously, excitedly, await your response, filled with intrigue of the true light that lingers within you, I shall ponder the beauty of the morning as it passes before my window…
    Hope your day is filled with enlightenment… and I am certain that we will still love you tomorrow…
    Michael

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