The quality of light around you
You went away but the light
Lingered in my memory
And all I ever wrote
And all I ever created
And all I ever did
Was tinged with that memory.
You were the plow that broke me open
and when the seeds fell in
they grew because my field was ready
I would have been hard unyielding ground
If you hadn't broken me
And the wound still produces
The muse must hurt us
And go away
And leave the memory
Then come in ephemeral visits
You know its the muse
When he comes
and tells you to create
The muse will never stay with you
But the muse will always stay with you.
