Saturday, April 28, 2007

For The Muses

Time and again
you mirrored my curiosity,
pushed my pen, spun phrases
for a silent immersion in verse.

Melodies I searched for
and reflective moments.

But my dear
the values and the elements
one is asked to live with
amidst a world of contours.

To compose a song
In the wilderness
Among jarring voices, not knowing
What is music, what is noise.

Distant faces smile at me from the void.
I am unable to climb to the shrine of the Muses
on my bruised feet.

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