I Won’t Be Without Her

How can one possibly live each day without their Muse?
I find the days long, boring, even flavorless without her.
My nights are all the more dark, when she is not here.
Not the dark that is black, and cool, but the darkness that
That is empty and void and lonely, and thirsty.

The artist in me is only a man with a pen and paper alone
In a room without furniture, without music, without words.
I stand with a pen without ink, paper coated in wax, and a
Vacuum in my brain, constantly sucking at life and creativity…
When she is not with me, whispering in my ear, touching me.

I once met a man who lived near the beach. He told me that
He had died. I told him that he had clearly not died because
We were talking, and breathing, and I put my hand on his
Shoulder and smiled, and we are touching.

He said “When she is gone there is no power in the words,
No life in the breath, and no love in the touch. Though many
Touch me, I can only feel but One. Now she is gone. Do you
See?” I looked out over the waves of the ocean and did not
See my blindness, but now…I see.

Without the Muse, there is no life, no power, no love. There
May be a world fill of people, full of events and happenings,
But there is only One who brings it all to life. She is the Meaning
The Purpose, the Reason, the Why and the How Come. She is
My Muse, My Mistress Muse. And I will not be without her.