Again, I close my eyes

and wait for you, Dear Muse,

never knowing if you will come

and enter me today,

and if you do,

I have no notion

what you will bring.

I glance out at the eastern sky,

at the orange glow

then close my eyes again

and sit here in my darkness,

waiting with delicious coffee-- the warm

brown brew I crave

like I crave you.

I take that first warm sip--

the sound of “ahhhh” rising

from my throat--

a sound so pure

and filled with poetry

it teaches me to listen

to my deepest voice—

the voice that has no words,

that says what I can’t say,

a sound of praise,

an ode

that anyone who savors

the beauty of that taste will know.

I take another sip

and shake my head in awe

and again that deep felt

"ahhhhhh"

rises from my throat

and fills the empty room

with poetry that no one hears.

How does such beauty come

into my cup and to my tongue

and from where?

What journey has it taken

before arriving at my lips?

And then I think of you,

my dangerous friend,

calling me again

from where you live—

that realm I sense

is somewhere near,

as if you are the girl next door

whose house I want to enter

without knocking

so I can take you in my arms,

dear muse,

and know again,

the taste of you

and hear our screams

fill the room

with our wild poetry.