The Mystic Muse

Soaring in and out of the rainbow colors in my mind;

Sprinkling stardust ideas; calling on image-breezes;

Spinning the word mill at Spirit-to-Spirit confluence;

Swaying suggestions on branches of composition tree;

Slowly dripping teardrop thoughts from sprigs of Weeping Willow;

Raining down joyful verse from our nimbostratus mindscape;

Pounding out anxious rhythms on a spring Grouse’s thunder;

Skipping across chakras; alighting mandalic labyrinths;

Whisking me away to creative realms of All-That-Is.

© 2008