The Muse Poem by Daniel Trevelyn Joseph

Can the glow of poetry
Be created artificially,
Consciously?

What inside us acts
As a touchstone
To decide whether it is a poem
Or prose chopped into lines?

Entering the metaphysical realm,
To taste and find it fizzy and alive,
With bubbles of different sizes
Along the inside rim of the glass.

No wonder ancient poets invoked the Muse,
As a link to something unknown,
The manna that fell from heaven.