The Muse

OF MUSES AND HER
1. One of the nine goddesses, daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne, who presided over song and the different kinds of poetry, and also the arts and sciences; — often used in the plural. At one time certain other goddesses were considered as muses.
2. A particular power and practice of poetry; the inspirational genius of a poet.
I have over the past couple of weeks found myself invariably drawn towards writing after a hiatus which has amounted to years in essence. I could take the high road and claim writers block or a lack of time due to a busy schedule and be done with it. Truth be told though the drive has been absent to the point of total non existence. But lo and behold a transformation has occurred.
Gone is the lazy disinterested bum to be replaced by a wordsmith and conveyor of anecdotes and puns. What has happened to cause this metamorphosis is an utter twist of fate to put it mildly. Think of a caterpillar morphing into a butterfly. And yes the cynic and skeptic in me has been humbled and i now believe in fate because of one stubborn and strong willed daughter of eve and peer to the Goddesses. We will call her just “her” for now.. *chuckles*
So in essence I have stumbled upon my own Goddess and daughter of Zeus!!! As you can tell “her” refers to a “she” and she is something to behold.. Though a vixen and minx spelled ANGEL, she has brought out all that was inert in me to see the light of day. And wonder of wonders the words won’t stop flowing as a side effect to the perpetual glow that accompanies my days. A door long shut has found itself opened to not only to her but the world.
The glow has become a distraction. I call it this, a distraction, because I had deemed it impossible to be enamoured by what I considered a base emotion and a dangerous one at that.. That may have you open mouthed and wondering what hogwash it is that you find yourself reading right? Tsk tsking you might think of me as mad, but i had come to the conclusion that investing in the unknown, though intriguing does get bothersome.. Call me whatever you want a grouch, a scrooge of sorts or just a miserly ass who would rather not share his inner self..
But I do digress a little though from what I had had intention of writing about but felt a background was necessary to fully comprehend what her has managed to inspire and elicit out of me. So to get back on track let me go back to her.. What to call her though is the question?? Whispering out her name would only break the magic of it all and make it real and tangible to everyone else when I would truly only have its splendour and magic and not mention aura to myself and being. I am after all enamoured by her.
Still that does present me with a quandary because her needs a name before we go any further so lets call her Papillon, well just, and because I choose to name her so and I just do so like it!! Besides the way it rolls off my tongue, it has also deeper meaning which I shall go deeper into with her.. Hint something that blooms literally and figuratively!!
So Papillon came into my life a couple of weeks back and like a tsunami wrecked havoc. She materialized as a gene or fairy would, and has been busy being well a busy body an ANGEL utterly been “naughty” tossing fairy dust all over me disrupting my structured and monotonous life. Worth noting though and of vital importance is that Papillon’s influence has been subtle but far reaching because has done the one thing I hold in lore and challenged me. So she honestly doesn’t really even have to do anything else. She has an amusing saying she likes about, well arrogance I think. That’s another hint in regards to her identity. Just being her therefore is quite enough for me. Ludicrous you might think and say. Well maybe, because I can’t explain it myself and will not even deign to. Am I mad at her? What?!! Hell no!! She’s the enamourer!!.
I thus find myself in what you would call seventh heaven flying about on a silver cloud totally oblivious to everything else. Her brilliance is in her stubbornness which has seen my mind yelling out CHALLENGE ACCEPTED.. Had she been amiable to my every request I would not be writing this to be honest. Indifference I dare say would have set in as usual.
Suddenly everything else seems mundane and my juices couldn’t be flowing at a more obscene pace. I find myself now yearning to write to read to smell a flower in bloom and just to take a deep breath and savour everything anew. The bounce previously tucked at the back of my closet has suddenly found itself dusted off and polished to a particular brightness and sheen only a uniformed servicemen can appreciate and being put to use on a daily.
Dare I describe her and almost certainly shatter the magic or retain that for the soft whispers between the words I write and let a knowing smile part from her lips knowing indeed that she is her , she is Papillon. Lets just say dynamite does indeed come in small packages and packs a hell of a punch.
Our interests seem to merge almost as if our minds are in concert doing a mental lambada tango. Surely the forbidden dance is taboo!! Right? Well tell that to the thoughts swirling about interflowing, the telepathy the conformity of thought. Chaos Theory anyone? The randomness is the order of it all. I wonder though if we talked more what my thoughts would evolve to?
Throughout all this writing is an amusing fact that has surfaced in my mind. A fact that I only pick up now and has me smiling. Its not love am describing but something more satisfying and a little bit primal. Love has too many facets which make it crass.. And yes I said it. Sapiosexual has been thrown around somewhere in there, but like everything else it has its flaws and underlying deficiencies. So what to call it?? Maybe she will help me in that regards.
Thoughts like this only Papillon can really truly understand and savour. This after all is a letter to her. Something to put a smile on her face which I think is Devine. Yes Devine will suffice as a descriptive word because like a light its bright and engulfing.. Her manner amuses me makes me smile, she believes everything is good in moderation but I disagree. I already believe we don’t talk enough as is..
Papillon I bid you adieu and like a whispered word of affection in ones ear you remain tender and sweet, indifferent to all but.. Well that is for another day!!

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s