tracking the muse

I am not sick anymore
an occasional cough reminds me of my mortality
but I breathe again
the deep breathe of a warrior
tracking the muse in the shadows
a stealth follower of wisdom and magic
I lie in pursuit of play

I miss my Goddess friend
her sunset offerings a worthy enticement
and I am meditating on my soul's hunger
seeking more than labor and sleep
a dance, a song, a deep laugh

we will meet soon
at least upon the poet's night
sharing words like bread
a feast to feed the timid beast

beat the drum tonight
chant my name to the Sheepscot mystics
count the stars flying across the bay

I am healing in more ways than a virus can claim
and my aging eyes are seeing new visions
I'm whispering anticipation and joy

tomorrow my son gives me answers
the day begins with the quietest of contests
and I celebrate the lessons
sifting through centuries
showing me the way

                © Chuck Beals 2001