Saturday, March 26, 2011

Writing on the Muse Stream

Believing in impossible things may seem undoable, but actually it's all a matter of letting your imagination run free. For example, this morning long before breakfast while I, the Queen of Hearts, lay in bed pretending to be asleep while hoping that the King would roll his plump self out of bed and start the tea kettle, I quite easily believed that I was young and beautiful and would remain so for eternity.

That belief quite naturally led to the next. I believed I saw a giant golden spider weaving a gossamer web to catch my dreams. It took no effort at all to reach up, pluck the web, and watch shining notes of music, quite like a harp, dance across the dust motes toward my ears. When a few notes went astray I caught them on my tongue. Ah, sweeter than any honey made from even the rarest of orchids. I plucked the web again, just to see if what happened would be the same again.

Of course it wasn't the same at all. Without opening my eyes I could see the bright shards of mirror sparkles that shot in every direction, showering me with the fragrance of crushed citrus leaves and pewter cup rims.

It made no sense to lift my lids when I could so completely see and understand the beauty of the universe and the wonder of a life lived from birth onward to the point of finishing whatever destiny was pre-ordained.

The golden spider wove on and in and out until the dream web surrounded me and held me rocking in the rhythm of the tides. This way and that way, back and forth, as gentle as the moon going through phases from new to full.
(My thanks to Mark David Gerson and his book The Voice of the Muse: Answering the Call to Write, inspiring writers to write on the Muse stream.)