so many things,
constellations & shells
and butterfly wings.
Pebbles and feathers
& so much more.
I lie them in a sacred altar
at your door.
Won't you let me in?
The ring of Saturn,
the four seasons too.
I will bring them
all to you.
Fur of lion
and fang of bear,
tails of mermaids,
an absence of fear.
Won't you let me in?
I bring things to (a)muse.
Mozart's ear
and van Gogh's brush,
Songs of magpie
and of thrush.
Shakespeare's muse,
a sky so blue.
I will bring them
all to you.
Won't you let me in?
I bring things to (a)muse.
To inspire,
and to delight.
Galileo's telescope,
Joni Mitchell's first guitar,
the first light of dawn
and the darkest of star.
The Mona Lisa's smile,
a heart that's true.
All of these things
I leave (just) for you.
Won't you let me in?
I bring things to (a)muse.
To inspire,
and to delight.
To inspire...
And
to
delight.
***
And if my soul
had a soundtrack,
it would be something by Bach
or perhaps Johnny Cash.
If it was a colour,
it would be purple,
red or blue.
If it had a taste,
it would be avocado & goat's cheese,
or maybe chocolate and vanilla.
It would smell like
freshly brewed coffee
or pesto.
It would look like
Starry Starry Night.
And it would feel like
being in your arms
(even though I have never
been in your arms).
(c)Brent M Harpur, 2012.
“The Sun, with all the planets revolving around it, and depending on it,
can still ripen a bunch of grapes as though it had nothing else in the Universe to do.”
(Galileo Galilei)
-for E.
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