Poet and Muse

All poets need a muse,

or so I'd like to think...

fortunately ( and maybe not...)

I have one

she has many names,

some I can say and some I can't

here I will call her...Jewell!

But I also I have begun to wonder

if the muse might need a poet?

Mine came into my life,

once than twice

and as it may appear

three and four more times...

a little like a wiff of smoke

floating in and out,

can't hold it or pin it down...

leaves a stinging mist

and my sight surprisingly cleared,

and enhanced!

Have written pages and pages

about this encounter,

rich, thought provoking poems

in a language that spills

from my fingers

in a sometimes painful wonderment.

She is difficult and challenging

in so many ways

and really?

She probably doesn't even deserve

a blog about her but

its an intriguing subject to ponder!

The first time we met was a blur,

a party of like people,

which passed quickly into memory,

never thought of again

until a year later at the Humane Society

Art of adoption Dinner

(now three years ago)

An event, I believe always attracts

a significant collection of people

at one table.

(so far, in seven years,

I haven't been wrong)

so she sits down accidentally

cause it "looks like a fun table"

little did she know how fun

and the moment for me

comes in like a shaft of light

with sirens that pitch loudly

"pay attention, pay attention

something important is at work here?"

Yikes, I have received messages

of energy

before but none quite as loud as this

so I did and I felt immediately

'assigned' to this woman,

whether I liked it or not!

Assigned?

For a long time

I have subscribed

to the philosophy

of 'Sacred Contracts' by Carolyn Myss.

In my lifetime of spiritual research,

hers resonates with me

simply and profoundly!

Carolyn states and believes,

we "agree"

before coming to the planet

to help one another out

with particular lessons,

and we are assigned

by an agreement to meet

and assist,

and also that our souls before,

embarking to earth

are fractured into

a thousand pieces of light

and land in

that other souls 'backpacks of life,'

the way we know this

is when we meet someone

IF we feel an animation

of feeling either positive

or negative,

we have met a

glittering piece of our soul

in someone else

and we can expect the ride

to be nothing short

of true inspiration,

(maybe) painful

but an enlightened

magnificent encounter!

(IF... we are paying attention.)

It is a philosophy

FOR ME?... that works!

It's not for everyone!

The recognition of my light

in Jewell's backpack

was something I couldn't ignore

and (she would say)

I was relentless in

my determination to be her friend.

Tho, there was much comedy,

in our conversations,

It has also

at times brought me to my knees

in a journey of supreme rawness!

Muses!

What are they

and how did they come to be?

I looked it up and wow,

many thru history

and debates about

the mythical Greek muses,

nine or three?

Not interested in

reporting a history lesson here

but some also seem to think

it's our inner voice,

(well, hell I have way too many

of those)

What about the real life ones?

Yet, I was disappointed

in that particular research path.

Except...

in the movie 'Becoming Jane'

It is evident and revealing

that Thomas Lefroy,

is Jane Austens muse and inspiration

for the infamous, Mr. Darby

in Pride and Prejudice...

so I know I am in some

good historical, company here!

And in the movie Nine,

Daniel Day Lewis's character

has nine female muses... yikes!

(I am thinking,

one is hard enough...

thanks very much)

My time with Jewell,

spans an undetermined

amount of time

(spiritual and other wise)

has had the affect of

flooding me with words

and a rich language of great wit,

humor and dialogue,

adventures

of spiritual transformation

hidden in

the 'amazing and funny.'

For some reason,

(much to her dismay)

I felt compelled to record it all.

Notes for the great romantic comedy?

Possibly!

While she twisted me inside out

sent me sideways and upside down,

she also raised me up,

moved me in dramatic

and necessary directions,

offered many heightened lessons

in "becoming the sky,"

(see previous post)

and mostly,

taught me that although

I imagined myself drowning?

I was actually floating...

She, it seems, is my "learn

to love red" inspiration!

So here are my thoughts on

muse and poet...

Maybe every poet needs

a byline muse,

champion and demon,

inspiration and teacher,

the impossible

and necessary character

for pages, poems, stories

the instigator for the tragic

and comic scenarios,

that play out in an

outrageous display of

victories and loss,

inspiring the wild what ifs,

the offerings of ‘be patient,

be bold ' rampant.

Every poet/artist needs

the opposite of themselves

to force the border

of the unknown "maybe’s?"

towards a boundless sky.

But maybe?

The muse also needs a poet?

Someone/something

to fight against,

resist, reject!

to run from, to refuse

to push back and away...

something so connective

they can try but

it tips them

upside down and inside out

while being tiredly intrigued,

unable to truly hide for long.

Like bird and sky!

The bird cannot fly without the sky

and the sky can not be sky

with out the bird's need for flight!

Do you have a muse?

If you do

I hope your's is easier

(and nicer) than mine

but equally capable of

generating

the big words of wonder

maybe even that

great novel, sonnet

or love poem?

Despite all "their" trouble?

It's worth it!

Cause who is the poet without the muse?

Like Thelma without Louise?

Susanna without Lisa?

(Girl Interrupted,

Winona and Angelina)

The Cat without His Hat?

I for one,

would rather not know!

Pam Piper Rain