7/27/11
&
11/18/12
I feel the need to create.
To give purpose to my hands, head, heart ..
to my soul & the ancestors of my soul whose songs, poems & stories have
become drowned out by ticking clocks, car engines, & bad sitcom banter
Whose inspiration have been buried in deep empty pockets by
material expectations
& I ….. I just feel that I am too heavy.
Bonded to the earth. & not as a fierce,
primal passionate earth mother, soil sister dancing down the bones kind of way.
More like the roly-poly girl of my past (present) trying to
be rhythmic & graceful of but unable to find lightness in the sole of her
feet.
There is no lightness in the sole of my soul.
I miss giving birth to an idea, story, poetry, even a doodle
drawing.
Simply Putting pen to paper
Words, phrases, ideas flowing from somewhere within
Sometimes laboriously & painfully pushing out the
perfect word
Or gang of words to express exactly …. Exactly “IT”
& getting lost – mind, heart & soul completely
obsessed,
Dancing cheek to cheek
Heart to heart with my muse.
I miss my muse.
I miss her murmurs
& mutterings that softly tickled my insides then grew into
playful
whispers, sweet promises gentle caresses until there was nothing but my muse to
me.
& with pure
abandonment of responsibilities, fear of criticism, I surrendered.
She and I would sit curled together
sometimes on a dirty floor in a corner of the kitchen,
or in a cold break room amid conversations about the best price for pork loin and canned
pears.
Sometimes in a parking lot in my car. The windows fogging up
with heat of writing without abashment, without worry of being late for
something, of being something that
I’m not for someone.
Just me & my muse – rocking to the primal drumbeat of
creativity – allowing her song to erupt, to spill forth until the paper was
filled and was emptied ….
satisfied.
& maybe what we brought into this plane was good – maybe
not. Not all children turn out well, no matter how much effort is put into
their development.
But, the dance was beautiful.
I miss my muse.
copyright 2012
Jennifer Mason
