Tag: The Muse

Categories
Life

Sitting Up Here

Maybe I’m sitting in a tree, somewhere, looking down at it all. I’m sure my feet are dangling, and I’m probably whistling in harmony with the wind through the branches.

What do I see when I look down at my life? I see myself sitting quietly at a little white desk, typing away, visualising a peaceful version of myself up there.

Peaceful me would look down at the small children running circles around the house, see me wincing at the too many seconds of loud for comfort and she’d send a little caring my way. An invisible hug, maybe. Whatever I might need to soothe me.

She’d also look down and see me laughing to the point of holding my belly. The six-year-old. The most HILARIOUS trick anyone has ever played on me. He’s managed to pull it off, and I highly doubt he’ll be able to top such brilliance in both wit and execution again, but I’ll remain on guard, just in case. Peaceful me would know that’s the first time I’ve laughed like that in a long, long time.Then she’d send a great big smile my way.

Peaceful me would see the good and bad of it and whisper to me: it’s all good.

It’s all good.

Photo by Artem Beliaikin on Pexels.com
Categories
Life

Sweet Muse

Come to me, sweet muse.

Float into my heart and wake me from sleep.

Light the fire within and shine me on my way

for a thousand lifetimes.

I see you, sweet muse, for what you are to me.

A million dreams to share.

A million dreams

to unlock the pure and gentle ecstasy of the world.

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Photo by bruce mars on Pexels.com

Categories
The Darling Blog Of May

Darling Day 8. Darling Darling Music

If words are the darling of my mind, then music is the darling of my soul.

Today I remembered it.

Just today. When I sat at the piano and sang my soul into the moment all around me.

What darling bliss it was.

I used to write songs, you know? My first experience of the muse and its silent, roaring power.

That power.

Can you imagine? A life as a song?

My life.

Memories, and loves, and the deepest of heartaches.

Today, I remembered them all: the gifts that music gave to me.

Darling, darling music.

Same time tomorrow?

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The darling blog of May

Categories
Writing

The Wonder of the Muse

It’s the cool rush of fire shooting down the limbs, filling up the head, the heart, the page.

The spirit.

The muse, some people call it.

But what’s in a name? said the muse, to the writer who sat his desk once upon a time,  dipping and scribbling, waiting for his words to fly.

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It’s bigger than a name, surely— this mysterious, creative force.

It’s a train that barrels through the writers imagination, often with no known destination.

It’s a one-sided phone call from the heavens, where no words are spoken, but millions are heard.

And written.

And felt.

Music. Books. We’ve all felt those.

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It’s a feeling like no other, this force that takes the creative folk of this world. Magic in a million whispers; an offer they’ll either drop or fly into the sunset with.

It’s a chest flooded with light and a dare to fill a blank page.

It’s an epiphany.

A promise.

A gift.

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A gift for writers and a gift for the readers of their words.

A gift for humanity, is what it is.

Mysterious and strange.

And overflowing with wonder.