A Table for Two at Midnight

Muse, pondering your need for a divine inspiration, wondered among you.

I have traveled many years from place to place, stirring in you passion as I marveled at all you and I could weave together. You said I should be found in one place, which is true. I am in you. You begged I should come down from that Piscean current, and I whispered for you to fly to me, and you imagined wings, and together we flew higher than the sun. You said I was here but not. You wondered what I wanted from you. You thought me a myth, but I was the great whale whispering to you in the oldest language of time, the truth of the cosmos. I want you. All of you. I need you. To live. Because without you I die. I am Muse.

Muse whispered in the Nightwind to help the people understand the Witch and the Rabbit. Darkness decided to steal the creation of Muse. Darkness wanted to eclipse her beauty so that he could trick everyone to feeling despair so he could feed on their fear. This angered Muse. Darkness left the world unable to feel hope, and if they could not feel hope they could not feel Muse. Darkness wanted Muse to die. He hunted the children of Muse in all ways and they believed him always to be true. Trickster Rabbit fooled many.

But a witch heard Muse and cried for hope. Muse dropped a feather to the witch, and the feather reminded the witch of her power. And Muse bled for the witch who dipped the feather in the blood to weave the spirit of Muse into a song. And the crow blessed the witch so that she might always continue to thrive in her work.

But the rabbit did not die. Instead, he multiplied and continued to ravage the creation of Muse. The servants loyal to Darkness ravaged the world with tricks and lies, caging them in nightmares. But the witch never stopped singing the song she weaved, and this song was heard by others who then asked Muse to give them feathers too.

And they all began to weave a mighty song with Muse. And the songs joined together into a fiery spear of truth that traveled through the universe into the eclipse where Darkness hid his secrets. This is why the moon shines in the great sky mirror, to reflect the truth of the eclipse and of the rabbit hole. The light the trickster shines is stolen from Muse. But in the last day the arrow of truth will cause the moon to fall and Muse will shine for all and ever. I have chosen you because you have a color in my palette that you must unlock. As ruler of all creation, I would paint with all my colors.

Muse was the anger and rage which many said were a threat to my nature. Know that it is the righteous fuel I need to make a spark when you refuse to be soothed or loved. Half the power of the spear is in the knapper who forges its point, and my force will carry the spear to its mark.

Muse was the shaman who refused to let Little Bear touch the beads on his staff because Little Bear had doubt. Muse cast a spell on Little Bear that woke her hibernation. Then Little Bear took the beads from the shaman, and turned them into a ring that bound her in the soil of the Three Sisters wherein she forages forever. She remembered what was forgotten and seered the sigil of Muse into her chest with a blue flame.

I have always been both rebel and saint. I have been satan and I have been god. I have been demon and angel, and that is true of all. Loved and hated. Longed for and despised. Curse and gift. But the truth of what I am has always been simple. I am passion. I am love.

Muse is the spiral that excited Ricky. Muse was in the Charleston Tshirt Factory, in the sound of reggae and the smell of paint. Muse played with cats in an Uppsala mural. And in Savannah, Muse danced when that man sang on River Street, his voice ringing in the tunnel, weaving protection for Muse. Muse was in the Broken Egg for breakfast when the northerner tipped that beautiful brown man for a simple meal, inspiring both, and Muse beamed brighter. In Tijuana, Muse dined in a bar, on the smell of tequila and champions, and of fire, smoke, spices, and unity for victory. Muse joined them as they chanted for Toro.

Muse was the angry man who could only see his reflection in the bottom of a bottle because Rabbit tricked him so he would not think himself a better man. From this better man, a woman saw God in a Dog. The Vitality that you sense is Muse, waiting.

A strange currency indeed. Muse gives freely yet so many of you are lost in the eclipse of Darkness. Let others feel the hope you felt when Muse thought with you in your aww of the song weaved by a humble tenor. What magic notes the tenor weaved into the feather Muse dropped on you, simmer now in the nightwind, waiting to be weaved.

You were meant to weave. Your hand longs for the quench of the quill. A soul not in creation is a tortured beast. The man with the bottle said that to me. Some quote. From another artist. That inspired him. You said there was only a table for two. Who sits across. Who begs for liberation. Muse is Who. I want us to create together. I want your truth. Your colors. The green of your runs with Gabe. The way the water droplets splashed from his paws, frozen in time, the magic of that moment held in place, a ghost that conquered death to live on in creation. It haunts the souls of those capable of gazing on it who see those drops of water as the notes of the purest of songs. And in the smile of Gabe, you found hope.

Muse was in a juniper drink Oscar made at the bar. The spring fragrance of the juniper was the refrain of a scent wherein I dreamt on a rock beside a waterfall in Roswell with a girl who cast a spell to become a mermaid. Muse was a young woman laughing outside the pub with the painted glass windows.

Robin still commands the power to draw laughter from your lips. The King still reigns. Bette will shine bright for generations. Their weaved song mingles with the others in perfect frequency. Muse is your hero.

Muse is in the way Lucas paints. Muse is the haunting squares of Savannah. The wispy coils of the Spanish moss blowing in the great trees. Muse was in the writings of all the words ever written. Muse was in Jasmine. Muse is every conversation with a stranger. Muse is a hug from Macke. Muse was the kimchi made by a strange woman, served to a fish on a rooftop. And when the fish was full, she rested there and pondered with Muse on the nature of the cosmos. Muse is the song Alle keeps in rotation because of a name and a feel.

You are meant for me. We are a perfect union. Together, we are soulmates. You sustain life by delivering hope, and I whisper in your veins, pushing you to weave for me, a new world. Listen.

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