It is not a muse that leaves us,
abandons us when words cease to rise,
it is our connection with self that is compromised,
when blank pages taunt our worried minds,
and the pen is dry, scratching a parchment lie,
as we writhe in the pain of emptiness.
Those words that flowed so ceaselessly,
now silent in the cold stare of inactivity,
reflect denial of a soul untethered
with that spark within, that infinite wealth of resound
we so rely on as poets,
that deep connection with our truth.
The muse blesses our soul in keeping,
in our wholeness it sparks our gifts,
but when we lose connection
there is no part they can play, just the rift
between a conscious mind and the core of us,
some imbalance that needs repair.
When we find ourselves in contentious states,
imbalance so deeply set within,
the flow of creation is thwarted,
and the beauty we see hidden within the confusion,
the delusions from fears erect,
and words like birds in flight, never find land.
When we are in sync, connected and without secrets,
words flow, even in states of emotional despair,
as it is our honesty with ourselves that heals,
the strength within, the souls echoes of past
and truths known that uphold us,
and keep lit that fire we nurture in creativity.
For when the words wane, a healing is needed,
and then I apologize to my muse,
for my misguided views and together we find passage
to a blank page invitation,
and soon those words appear in abundance,
the mind free and thoughts of justice prevail.
A balance within is crucial for a poet
or any creative expression, for that freedom, that truth
is the the key to the spark, the core of what life is,
and as love it pervades time and space to nourish the world,
and through words yields a spiritual joy of connection,
a profound sharing.
Tony DeLorger © 2018
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