ball whispers shimmering unveil hits strange shedding edge creature sparks fear magic
For the effect I wanted, several of the words have been exchanged for softer synonyms.
The Muse
She is the anima to his animus,
the yin to his yang...
-- Germaine Greer, The Role of the Muse.
A nymph of old,
A fairy, if you will,
A figure of insight and wisdom,
Murmurs warmth into his soul,
Stirs emotions, elicits insights.
Sparks—Creative and spiritual,
Reveal beneath the layers
Of self, soul and persona
The aching tremors of love
And of enduring bonds of respect.
They produce a form of magic.
That unveils the present
But also the hidden longings,
It unveils the eyes to a new dance—
Haunting, inspirational,
On the very edge of the mind,
Opening to the loveliness,
The deep luminous loveliness,
Within.
Just as a candle is blind
To the radiance it produces,
For it to truly see its beauty,
It needs a mirror.
◊
Not many people have delved into the movings of the muse. This is very beautiful and breath taking in its depth and heart. This is the muse in action and it is the dance that matters. You seem to have risked all in allowing such open-ness to everything in your own heart, for a muse to carry the spirit in freedom. The alchemy of anima and animus creates the beauty of your poem.
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