Muse

Muse

The anticipation for some inspiration 

Where's the source of your power?

What keeps your soldiers marching?

Every time you lay a brush to a canvas

Establish a position to begin your performance

Create a sound for the set of notes

But in my notes, I'm just jotting down.

Wondering what are the pieces that create you

If a part is pulled out, do I scream JENGA?

Or is it just excess? Saw dust? Clay? 

Temporary fillers that helped sculpt you 

Until you were strong enough to hold your own?

Wait as I draw four rights til I end back to you

Hum a tune to see if you could create a melody

Tap my feet as you proceed to setup an eight count

Suddenly realizing that you move to the beat of your heart

And the great hearts all around you

That you brush paint & illustrate 

All aspects that you and others could relate

And that you sing for the sake 

That your voice is a mood

A mood that absorbs anyone else's mood

I swear I'm just talking

Because I'm not talking about and artist

Or a singer

Or a dancer

Just how you speak, how you interpret, and how you move

All about you. My muse