Oh, how the muse begets a fit
When, neither pen nor pencil in sight
The poem begins, and from darkness to light
Only the words come singing through
And, by morning's first hint of red on blue,
The words have come and gone
And on paper blank I stare
In loving memory
Of the poem's full bliss at nightfall's wake
A tidal wave of creative flow
Now, at dawn, the page awaits
And the words have flown like twilight's stars
To come again when the new moon shows
The pathway to Heaven's door
In the diamond ripples, in the wave's faint roar
Of wind on coastal islands fair
In Big Sur's coast, my flute flies far
To a distant star
In the music's embrace
You'll learn who You Are!
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