Muse

MUSE

A cafe to share remembrances,
And in the corner,
The lurking shadow of truth.
The muse,
Within the heart,
Never dies,
Or fade,
It is we,
Who erode and accumulate….

I wrote this in response to the line by Illyria, “the pay’s reliable. muses get old. they die.”

The scene of the accident

A memory

Flowering potted plants,
Glowingly growing among,
Shards of shattered glass,
A memory of pain,
Thankful,
For,
Today.

A year ago a friend was driving towards her home and had an accident in which the vehicle rolled several times. Just the other day she recounted her experience walking past the place. As she walked by the scene of broken glass she spotted potted plants flowering. She said it both saddened and lifted her. Apparently others had died there in similar accidents and the flowers were planted in memory. :)

No Peace/No profit #2

Prophet's Profit

It never,
Is the prophets,
Who,
From altruism,
Profits,
I doubt any,
Of the many,
True prophets of,
Humanity,
Ever had as,
A primary,
Motivation,
The acquisition of power,
For just the sake of power.