Let Me Be The Muse. Poem by Jethro Kisakye Mark

My heart keeps time to the ghost of your pulse;
My soul kneels in worship of your unbearable beauty
My thoughts — unmoored, above the sky
Wonder if even longing earns me your name.

You are a silent song, i yearn to sing along,
But the lyrics have turned to ash; still, the song lives
The departed press their ears to the earth for your melodies
They only dream for there are no melodies left.

Come, make me the beat beneath your silence
Let me be the rhyme that wakes your soul from its dying
Do not haunt the world with your absence
Do not let them keep you caged in the reliquary of their imagination.
Jethro Kisakye Mark.