Magic

A dash of this,

A splash of that.

Pull a rabbit from my hat.

I wish you well–

Dreams coming true:

Everything you want there for you.

What a Mystery,

This great life–

Sometimes it soars, sometimes it bites.

I am happiest

When I remember

That magic comes when you surrender.

 


Found this little quirky creation on my computer today…

Wrote it probably 5 years ago.  The magic of surrender…

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Gypsy Muse Dancing

Crouching

In a misty moment–

Blanketed by dawn

(and a purple velvet cloak).

I peer

Between flared fingers

At nothing, nothing at all.

My chin tilts to the side,

Eyes down, coy,

Like I like them.

It’s a look of mystery,

And even I don’t know what it really means.

What if, who is, could be?

No.

Just

S P A C E

In which I may e x p a n d and contract,

Be whatever I choose:

A spider thinking,
A tree laughing,
A fairy dining on the finest dew…
A bat lurking, sleeping, hanging, hung.

Emotions real

Because I believe in my dream of them.

N O W.

Tomorrow—will be another

Place or time.

Another emotion,
Another me.

Nothing to hold onto.

Change.

All I really have is my love…

And the magic that I make.

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(Embodying the Gypsy Muse essence at a NYE party shortly after the poem was crafted.  Photo credit: Kyer Wiltshire)

(I wrote this poem several years ago, but thought I’d post it today for my BIRTHDAY.  Writing this poem ushered in a kind of spiritual birthday for me–the birth of my “Gypsy Muse”!  At that point, it was sort of an alter ego part of my personality.  Since then I’ve done much to integrate this essence into my regular, waking life and reality.  No longer an alter, she is me!  But, this poem is yet another example of the gifts creativity can give us.  I’m so grateful for the role poetry has played in my self-development and evolution.)

Expired Jokes of a Dreamer

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Are you willing to be weird if required?

Laugh about jokes that have already expired?

Endeavor to be zany at a time when it’s optional?

If yes, you’re at risk for a life that’s impossible!

Miracles will be had.  Magical treasures, too.

With a Dreamer in your pocket, there’s nothing you can’t do!

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * • • • ∞

Ahh Musement

I really think it’s true

That finding the Muse

Unlocks a room

Where magic brews.

 

Once she’s free–

Like a genie from a bottle–

Dreams rush in

And reality is mottled.

 

Whatcha gonna do

Now that she’s out?

The Muse will have her way,

About that, no doubt.

 

Get ready. Take your seat.

This rocket’s gonna fly

Across 8 dimensions

Into your third eye.

 

The Muse, she has a gift,

A present for you…

Let her in your life now; 

Enchantment will ensue.

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Shown in the photo is a piece of art I made inspired by the Muse.  She actually came to me in a dream this month (May 2016) (a nighttime, sleep dream)–looking just like this.  The scene included red velvet curtains, a bright green striped backdrop, and a really cute clown muse dressed as she is here and holding a polka-dotted box of RAINBOWS.  I ended up waking up after the dream, probably because it was so pleasant and fun.  I almost immediately set out to make a piece of art inspired by the vision.  I started with this bead piece because I love beading, but I hope to follow it with a painting.  Like the poem (which I wrote three years before I had the dream) says, she indeed does have a gift!!  Hello Muse! And thank you!!

Dark Star

I celebrate the Mystery

That dwells within me.

The Goddess, the Muse–

A Dreamer who sees…

Beauty in a moment

Strength in a pause

Depth in my BEing

A dragon with claws.

She’s whimsical, magical

Here and then there.

She definitely has a knack

For flips in mid-air.

Persephone, Diana

Kali-Shakti, Quan Yin.

The fairies, the gnomes

They all are my kin!

I see her in the moonlight

When the owl calls my name.

I hear her in the whisper

Of the nightsong of rain.

Who am I? Who are you?

What’s this world where we dwell?

Dark Star within me,

I am under your spell.

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