My Muse
by Stephendedalus
My muse is always with me,
viewing the world through my eyes,
singing along with my songs,
giving me a soft place to lay my head,
giving me a light in the dark, a goal,
a resolution.
My muse is a world unto herself.
She doesn't need me to be complete,
yet she says I complete her.
Before I knew her I was content.
Now that I've met her I will not rest until she is in my arms.
My muse is more beautiful
than any of the many wonders I have seen in my life,
more beautiful than an Arizona sunset,
a foggy bayou at dawn,
snow at Christmas,
or mushroom mandalas on the cloudface of the heavenly host.
My muse is kind and gentle,
yet I never have to tread softly in her garden,
because she is strong and tolerant.
My muse smiles like the sun,
cries like a rainbow,
laughs like a waterfall.
My muse is aptly named Angel,
though she likes to remind me
with her devil emoticon,
that nobody's perfect.
But she is.
Because each of her imperfections are perfect.
Like the different ways light can shine
through a cut diamond.
There are no flaws,
Only facets.
My muse lives in my soul.
Soon she will live in my arms.
And I will never let her go,
or let her down.
She is too precious to me.
If you think I'm not serious.
Wait until you see the looks on our faces
when we post our photo together.
And when we vanish forever from MD.
Because we won't have time for it,
and the last place we'll want to be after all this
is online.
To Angel from Deda
hang in there, the fun hasn't even started yet!
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