My muse has been kind to me of late. He has made himself known in a variety of ways. Sometimes in a song, sometimes in casual conversation, sometimes in quiet moments of reflection. Right now he is showing me the pitfalls of some of my writers blocks. Some of this I already knew, some are divine epiphanies.

I have always known that I write more creatively when I suffer from depression or angst. Not unusual for poets. That doesn’t mean that they are great works of art or that others find my work appealing. They are usually pieces that are more personally satisfying to me, which is the main objective anyway. Personal gratification. We all suffer from narcissism to some degree.

My greatest stumbling blocks are when I go through periods of confusion, self doubt or conflict with people that I love dearly. It immerses me in negativity and my muse abhors drama. Especially senseless drama. As was so eloquently stated by the infamous Rodney King, “can’t we all just get along”?

Long ago I saw my world in black and white. Over the years these have burred into a million hues of grey. My time lines were different as well. My visions and goals were always long term. The fairy tales always ended in ‘happily ever after’. Now my days are narrowed down to brief segments. One moment at a time.

I have learned to let go of the expected and just accept each moment as it comes. If someone says ‘I love you’ even once and you believe it even for a second, is it less important than being loved for a lifetime? And even if they aren’t sincere about it, is it less real if you allowed yourself to feel like it was?

Is the passion and fire that lies deep within a soul less precious if it remains untouched and unshared as long as you know it is there along with the depth of emotion that you know you are capable of? Just as the sun, moon and stars need to shine in their appointed time, so does the human soul. Some are like seasons; predictable, dependable. Others are like glorious comets, brilliantly illuminating a dark world for only a brief moment, but the beauty of that moment stays with you for a lifetime.

In a world that has become cold and cynical, where does the poet find a home? How does one find the catalyst that ignites those passions and fires and restores the hopes and dreams?

I have also come to suspect that my Muse is allied with the demons that I battle. My Muse strokes my psyche, offering outward expression of the inner battles, torments and turmoil that rage within. During these periods come the revelations into self and others. It is a torturous process that usually ends with a brief season of inner calm and peace. A season where clarity reigns supreme and there is a time of tranquil self reconciliation.

Unfortunately the cycles are a bit unbalanced, but I am learning to listen to the voices that speak to me in kinder gentler ways. No one can beat me up better than I can beat myself. Some see me as deep, others shallow, some see me as intelligent and witty, others as humorless and dim. Regardless as to how I am viewed by others at the end of the day I am only accountable to myself and God. And I pray He be merciful.

Til next time,

Love, sassy v 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N84vmz9WzMA

let it go,
let it roll right off your shoulder
don’t you know
the hardest part is over
let it in,
let your clarity define you
in the end
we will only just remember how it feels

our lives are made
in these small hours
these little wonders,
these twists & turns of fate
time falls away,
but these small hours,
these small hours still remain

let it slide,
let your troubles fall behind you
let it shine
until you feel it all around you
and i don’t mind
if it’s me you need to turn to
we’ll get by,
it’s the heart that really matters in the end

our lives are made
in these small hours
these little wonders,
these twists & turns of fate
time falls away,
but these small hours,
these small hours still remain

all of my regret
will wash away some how
but i can not forget
the way i feel right now

in these small hours
these little wonders
these twists & turns of fate
these twists & turns of fate
time falls away but these small hours
these small hours, still remain,
still remain
these little wonders
these twists & turns of fate
time falls away
but these small hours
these little wonders still remain