A day without her is a day wasted
My joy, my grief, my confidante,
I look forward to meet her
In the park, on the tree-lined roads
In the kitchen, on the bed
Among the flowers, across the sky
In the ocean, in the rising sun, in the sickle moon
In the lashing rain, the dripping droplets
In a flying eagle, in fall colors, on the bridge across the river
In my mother, in my kids, their father.
She’s any place from sky to earth
In all elements, in music, in the sonorous
Sound “Aum,” in my prayers, in God.
She is immortal, incandescent, iridescent.
The ever- graceful and gentle Muse.
Written for "The Whatever" contest