My Muse Has Lost Her Way

Seems my muse has lost her way
Stumbling in the darkness
And there’s nothing I can say
That leads her to the light
Choirs of angels, bands of men, children speaking Latin
None have even made a dent
Much less loose the battens

Breakfast in an old cafe
Donald Fagen playin
Slidin in across the bay
A sea fret on the rise
Ravens congress, seagulls flock, then vanish in the chasm
And Zeus’s daughter still is lost
But where I cannot fathom

An old guitar with rusty strings
Leaning by my window
Calling out for me to sing
My words have all run dry
But deep inside a voice begins, it’s you that locked me up within
I grab that axe and start to sing
It seems I hear my muse again

Photo Credit

Photo is Wikimedia Creative Commons

Recent Gil Namur Articles:

• Look After the Little Things
• Promenade
• Close Encounters Of The Google Kind
• Always In This Heart
• A Dance of Delight