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The Poet Meets His Muse (Prose Poem)
Once there was a poet who dwelt in a land of eternal summer where angels walked with mortals. It was on a certain day that he first saw the muse, bedecked with sunlight on the beach at dawn. He thought her beautiful even more so than the angels that were thought to be beauty incarnate, but here he felt a soul that had suffered for love and had been given a deeper understanding because of that and he knew her heart had melted into an unspoken tenderness that was truly human, but when he drew close and looked in her eyes they were illumined by a spirit that made all other beauty fade into insignificance. He knew then that she was the muse he had searched for through many lives and had wept for when he was alone. Through the labyrinth of broken dreams and sudden ecstacies he had come to a place where all was calm and he knew that somehow his search had ended and a new chapter had begun. But she looked and did not really see him, her thoughts were elsewhere with another who saw only the waves on the ocean of her loveliness.
So the poet wrote poems for her until the setting sun cast rubies over the ocean that danced and twinkled before stars took their place and heaven was reflected in the waters. Then he pondered on where she had gone now that darkness was here. Had she bathed in the river of forgetfulness so that she lost sight of who she was?. He knew that he had seen her for the first time as she really was and no one else would ever see her that way. He had such a love that defied the limitation of even thought. The angels came and scattered their magic over his words so that they would find a way into her dreams as she slept. And she did dream such a beautiful dream of love and light.
(Wayne Gatfield)
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The Poet Meets His Muse (Prose Poem)
The Poet Meets His Muse (Prose Poem)