Whispering Journey

Whispering Journey

              I summoned my muse: to inspire creativity;

                                                A movement of visionary

              In a moment in solidarity; contrary, to writer's block.

                                                A case of mis-identity unwillingness

             To comply with liberating the genie within: 

                                                And let her wings fly.

             He sent me into the bottleless sea.

                                                To the ocean floor,

             To count the sands from the shores;

                                                  Thought in vain. What would this change?

              He then said now turn your face toward the sun.

                                                   Eastward, westward, rising dawn.

              So I smiled and thought once again, though not in vain.

                                                   This is to claim, at that very moment.

              Things began to change; shadow fell, and focus remained.

                                                    All that's left is the light of illumination.

              And He said you, yourself, spread out across consciousness.

                                                    All the while, the muse whispered.

                                                                            Alone on the Journey.