Awaking on a Tuesday
(my normally scheduled “Muse Day”),
I rarely worry that the well
of creativity won’t swell.
I’ve never found it so.
But then, you never know!
And though I’m not afraid
that, suddenly, this gift will fade,
I surmise that I have no choice
in what it is that I will voice.
Some days while I am waiting
and calmly anticipating
the words appearing on my screen
(emerging from that font unseen,
which lies somewhere within
this Spirit clothed in skin),
a smile comes to my face.
I realize I’m touched by grace
when I do what it is I do,
assisted by my mystic crew.
The goings-on each “Muse Day”
are part of a normal Tuesday,
a facet of my current world
that, several years ago, unfurled
and caught me unaware
in answer to a prayer.
Today, I’m giving thanks
to Beings who make up the ranks
of the Choir of my mind that chimes,
inspiring me with lyric rhymes.