The Autumnal Return

2014-09-21 11.11.34

She returns.

This muse, she is not done with me yet.

This is not her only form, she is everywhere, reaching for me,

whispering- “Listen.”

I thought I knew her, I was wrong. I know that she is me,  and I am her.

But the depths she reaches out of.

But the heights she descends from.

But the magnificence of this beauty, of this beast.

When I do not believe, she is lost to me. When I do not trust, I am blind.

The truth is that she always believes in me.

That her patience is fierce,  and knowing.  Her trust- calm and steady.

And now she arrives again on the first day of Autumn                                     shimmering in the breeze of afternoon sun.

All she says today is… “create.”

 

 

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