An image appears after staring out the window for too long, and I scramble to catch it in my wordsmith's net. I write it down like a kite that has been brought back in from the clutches of a fierce wind.
Whispered words sometimes form next to my waiting, patient ear. I am enthralled with the idea of writing dialogue from the ethers. A whole poem has not shown itself yet to be a fully formed gift, but perhaps that would be asking too much of my muses. The first stanza sometimes comes to me swiftly and this is the greatest, beribboned present, as if I am being given spoken pearls, dreamtime treasures, or open palms ready to embrace my eager brain with a healing touch.
An artist's muse can be a frequent visitor or the spirit of a land you visit just once. A muse may walk beside you unannounced or uninvited. If you welcome this creative guest into your house of words, there will be fresh surprises, probing questions, new roads and in roads to the soul that you must seek to understand for yourself, regardless of how pleasant the company may be.
A muse may inspire, but the writer must do the hard slog of getting it all down on paper and making it shine. Three cheers for the company we have along the way, helping us to make those words and images shimmer in the light!