Poet's muse

Then who is she, if not for the muse?
Who is she, if not for the words?
It was there, where she was born,
caged and kept. Captivating,
for the others to read and live.
It was there from where she entered
the realms of unimaginable and fantasy
into the minds of the reader,
who worshipped her
even if 'twas for a moment's sake
the peace that she rendered
in her belly who found rest
and revived.
She led them into nothingness,
and to the stars
where they lived, thrived and perished;
to be born again.

She knew,
that was why she came
in the minds of the poet
to thrust life into the words
that came together,
so the reader can escape into living
though for a moment
when he is so deprived from it.
She was the muse of the poet,
the pulse of the readers..
Where she had to perish
and be the infinite
where she lives in the reader
who held her in his chest
to live with him until he dies
to become one with her
among the stars
that she so willingly
bestowed on him
while he lived.

Reviews

[Richard🖌]

Now, Dear Poetess 💫

You've truly opened the portals of my heart 'n soul, poignantly reminding me of my loneliness (sans a muse), left by kismet to drift alone through the wispy world of poetry writing with naught but a simple imagination and common observations to inspire my humble bardic emotions, feelings, thoughts, dreams, desires, philosophies, et al — eternally alone, abandoned to nought but battered pen, filled with but a few sparkles of stardusted ink to render my paint-by-numbers styles of poetry … where is she, my own missing magically wondrous, breath-gifting, heart-dancing muse?

Ahhh, Lady Shweta, how enviously you paint the colours of life, blending them into the wistful ambiance of captivating enthrallment every poetess, poet, and reader bows unto as it metaphorically sweeps 'n flows across and down the page into our minds, hearts, and soul's most imaginative fantasies. Wandering verbal waifs (such as I) when, if ever, my muse will embrace me, finding my always hopeful, poetic soul?

"She knew,
that was why she
entered the mind of the poet,
to thrust life into the words
that came together." (sighhh!)

"Compellingly fascinating and magically captivating" are the truest authentic plaudits your words inspire from within my humble being.
Bless you your gift, Dear Poetess, we so deeply revere✨ ⁓ Richard🖌

[Yellow Submarine.]

This is wonderfully done. An excellent description of what a muse is.

[Shweta]

Thank you Franky. Much appreciated!

[jacob erin-cilberto]

This is beautiful and haunting...and very interesting how, on some level, there is a parallel here to
what happened on 9/11 back in 2001.

"she led them into nothingness" "she had to perish/to be the infinite.
"to live with him until he dies/ to become one with her."

Do our spirits merge with the muse when we pass on?

Maybe...and can ghosts' fingers actually hit the keys?

I love this piece a bunch...

[Shweta]

Thank you so much!

You say, Does it? Looks like it. The muse and spirits.

[Coyote Poetry]

We do need our muses dear Shwetz.
"She was the muse of the poet,
the pulse of the readers..
Where she had to perish
and be the infinite"
I adored the above lines. I have many muses and many memories to keep my words alive. We need our muses. Thank you for sharing the amazing poetry and your thoughts.
Coyote

[Shweta]

Glad to know you have many muses and memories, that's so fortunate.. that's what keeps one going and brings excitement in the mundaneness..

Loved that you adored those lines and thanks for your beautiful presence here and much appreciating your thoughts and review on my write..

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome dear poet.

[Ken e Bujold]

Lovely poem Shwetz. She knew, that was why she came ... yes the muse. To whom I am very partial to, both intellectually (poet's inspiration) and physically (my dear wife's name) so i absolutely had to read this little gem.

ken

[Shweta]

.. it's so nice to know that dear Ken.

Being married to your muse is one beautiful blessing.. wishing that you both keep inspiring each other..

And glad to know you liked my write. Thanks!

[Arundass TP]

Interesting poem. Good work 👍

[Shweta]

Glad you liked it.. Appreciate your review!

[Arundass TP]

Welcome to read my wors too. With pleasure.

[Shweta]

Of course..in due time.

[Perdition]

The Muse, Our Muse!! That irreplaceable "She" of all "She" that kidnaps our nights and leaves us desperate; inept as well in bliss. I wonder if we could be willing to cast her aside and walk away. If the best of Poet could find it in his will to do such a thing. My answer would ultimately be "HELL NO!!". The artist lives no other way than to revel in this torture should it bring the words or canvas, music, ..erc.. We, if true to our source and being would sleep in the winter streets if necessary!! But who indeed? A wonderful piece Shwetz and glad to have you back here !

[Shweta]

Oh yes, we want her.. it's her existence that keeps us going. The worship and prayer all comes true when we revel in her existence..

Thanks so much dear poet for coming by and dropping in your kind, encouraging words! :))

[Perdition]

Pleasure is mine~