By Sue Sesnon Salt
As if in a grande cathedral waiting to hear the voice of God, I sit on my balcony longing for a word, a phrase, a hint, but there is only the thrumming of hummingbirds as they swarm around feeders like bees buzzing around a hive.
Where is my muse? Come Calliope. Come Thalia. Even Melpomene with her love of tragedy is welcome as I wait for inspiration. Do they dig out from the depths harboring everything I know, or do they plant small seeds hoping they will grow and bloom into something yet undiscovered?
I hold my pen expectantly, a clean pad on my knee for inked words to land in some logical and meaningful way, birthing a new perspective or understanding of some ancient day tucked away in the deepness of my decades.
A soft birdsong rides the breeze telling me there is sweetness and light to be had if I am willing to listen and forego the comfort of familiar hurts and pains sprinkled over a lifetime.
I am more than one emotion, one knowledge, one perspective, one history. My muses wait for me to embrace the whole and express everything I am.
This is my invitation.
Please come ladies. I have set out a feast of what is me and let’s enjoy it together.
Come Calliope
and you come also Thalia
Let’s unearth me
___
Sue Sesnon Salt , a native Californian, is retired and lives in Carlsbad, CA. She’s always loved to write and now has the time to pursue this passion.
All Rights Reserved Book Blog