The Wandering Muse

The wandering muse is a whimsical captor

Choosing randomly its slave

Lavishing gifts of thoughts and words

art and music

Nurturing the fledgling

Giving it wings

Letting it soar

Yet

Like a deft kite-flyer

Controlling the flight

Then suddenly when it takes her fancy

Moving on

Leaving one bereft of all thoughts

Refusing to be tied to one place

To be held captive

The wandering muse wanders away

There are some who learn well under her tutelage

Honing the art to a fine craft

Able to connect with her every now and then

But to others

She proves elusive

Showing a spark initially

They fizzle out once she is no longer there

The wandering muse

Like a gust of wind

Shakes up the soul

Smudging it with an illusion

That becomes a reality

In the swirling and the whirling mind of the creator

So when the wandering muse holds you in a thrall

Be a willing pupil

Partaking its lesson with a sublime receptiveness

Imbibing all that she imbues you with

So that when she is no longer there

You can reach your inner reserves

To let words gush forth with abandon.

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