The Muse lives on (a poem)

Thinking about this article from The Guardian

My muse may never know
who she is

I may not know

I write the words
choose the colours
lose myself in the sounds

I float with the emotions
I might otherwise deny
as they rise to the rim and overflow

And then I recognise
her face, her shape, her voice
the things she says
the look in her eyes
the smile of a thousand watts
her wisdom

She may walk the earth with you and me
She may occupy a corner of my mind

She’s always searching for the best in me
I can’t disappoint her, not this time

(23 July 2019)

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