The Wolf Transcends
I am who I was supposed to be
Here, I have worth
cherished beyond all hate
and I am allowed
to be creative
to be right,
where I’m never punished for being good
but it’s only a dream
a false promise of home, yet
still, I wait to be one
with the wolves
in the snow and ice and ravenflights
If only I can get through another day.
–Willow Croft (11:11)
The Alchemy of Time
The hourglass feeds on ghosts
it slows but never sleeps
the selfsame cycle of sand
still ticking away into eternity.
I should be able to
but nothing ever changes
except in dreams.
Which is real?
this static reality
or endless worlds
born from chimera and
Every night, I escape to
a new unknown
Which would you choose?
I ask, while knowing the answer,
yet, still, entrust my last wish to you,
walker of worlds,
and my never-ending ghost.
Please, fracture time
and bring me home.
I dreamt of my muse last night. That’s not unusual, but the nature of their entrance was not typical. Usually, it’s pretty dream-like…like I know it’s not really happening. That they are a fictionalized construct of that person, and the whole experience will end up in a poem.
Viola De Lesseps: I love you, Will, beyond poetry. —Shakespeare in Love
Last night, though? I didn’t even go looking for my muse, or build a dream around them before I went to sleep.
With all the force of a shock wave, they were there. Like lightning went all through me. My dreaming mind didn’t quite know what to do…and I’m used to having really vivid, lucid dreams. Imagine if somehow a flesh-and-blood person showed up in your dream, with no dream filters like magic and wishful-thinking scenarios or even surreal situations. And yet there was still magic surrounding my muse in their black-and-white (?) t-shirt and black jeans and looking a bit annoyed with having to punch their way into my dream. Sort of like a psychedelic swirling of rainbow colours behind them.
It was definitely one of the more interesting dream voyages I’ve had. So far, I haven’t found a poem to put that experience in, yet. Because it felt too real. And, yet, still wonderful.
wasted time channeled that perplexing dream into creating a new Pinterest board to display some of my sources of inspiration for my poems. Poetic Muse-ings
What sort of things serve as muses in your worlds?
William Shakespeare: My muse, as always, is Aphrodite.
Philip Henslowe: Aphrodite Baggett, who does it behind the Dog and Crumpet?
—Shakespeare in Love
“Quantum Singularity is a voyage through time and space. This poetic journey crosses oceans, traverses other realms, gets lost in the past, and disappears into the future. Choose the right path; the path that leads to the corner of Cosmos and Infinity, and the way will never be lost.”
You are welcome to join me on my voyage through time and space.
Purchase your ticket here:
I’ll be planning some visits to the Goodreads realm, as soon as my author page is up.
Hope you enjoy the magic!