January 12, 2004

A Brief Letter to A

I awoke in a sunny green meadow, refreshed as no sleep ever could. As I rubbed my eyes and yawned into the late dawn, I heard the most beautiful song. It lulled me into a hypnotic wonderment.

I immediately stood up and searched for the bard. It wafted through the trees, and I realized that even they, guardians eternal, listened. Their branches danced and swayed as I dug ever deeper into the woods.

I came to a clearing in the middle of the grove, and saw her. She strummed gently at a harp and sang so purely that I staggered to the ground in weakness.

"Woman in the mind's eye
Image burned through the hourglass
Words Tumbling, Jagged, Strong
Focus as Fervent, Feverish

Skill and Charm as Crystal
As Water
Pen and Hand as the Edge
As Life

The Muse, oh how she lives."