Awaiting the Muse by Puja Bhakoo

Like a Metaphor, a Poem brushes my Lips
A Surge of Emotions waxes… Then stops
Before I clutch the ephemera, it slips
Bursting Dew in a million Drops

Fighting the Wild Thicket of Thoughts
Imploring the Jumbled Clouds to Clear
I Seek Inspiration to dawn its Brilliance
The elusive Muse to Shed its Fear

Crouching behind a Facade of Whimsy
It’s There, I Know… Just a trifle Shy
Its Delicate Heavings tug my Heart
Flirting the Corner of my Eye

My Being Thirsts Coherence
Those Minty Floods of Creative Flush

Waiting for Music to Begin its Dance
Yearning for Symphony’s Whisper to Start
Craving an Unknown Virgin Sequence
To Embalm each Pore of my Aching Heart

The Ecstatic Pruning of Wordy Weeds
An Orgasm that Vacuums anew my Mind
Diving Inwards the depths of Self
A few Precious Pearls to find

Words embed the Folds of my Heart
Hope incubates in the Womb of my Soul
Just a few hours…Or decades ?
Before It is born – A Cohesive Whole

Outside my Solitude I peep. And Breathe
Her Fragrance lurks Somewhere near
Hold a little longer, Don’t give up just yet
The Rainbow will Shape; There will be Cheer

And then Suddenly The Sky Raptures in Freedom
Clouds retreat, the Heavens Smile Clear
Gods from Above, shower Petals of Relief
The Muse is Here. Yes She’s Here.