A Muse whispers
and the soul's pricked-up, hand cupped ear
strains hard to catch each syllable
wafting over memory's embers
scourging them to white heat.
The dull words in the crucible
melt, coalesce and run
in a stream of quicksilver moonlight
And Cat's eyes open wide on reflections
Of what amusemeant?
I'll need to read this again and again; thank you for a poem to contemplate..
Lovely Tony. Immediately captured my interest and loved the ending.
Truly a wonderful poem Tony. I find it hard to accept if my thoughts are my muse talking or my crazy thoughts that I should keep to myself. Sincerely, Mary
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
To 'A Muse Whispers' Of what amusemeant? think, think, think of Moon and Earth Clashed on one thin-air reflection Them eyes wide open In the stream of quicksilver minds Melt, candescence and run The doubt lurks in the crucible Hurtling ideality to white heat Wafting over delusion's sensory Nerve strains hard to trap each perceivables Hands-up ears & soul's flip-flop teeth A mute whispers Whatever trial sings of patience & belief Nullified is Doubt