Supplication for Inspiration

I know there is no ownership

Of inspiration

One cannot keep the wind in their hair

Or trap a goddess

On the head of a fountain pen

There is only marveling

Dipping my quill

In what smattering of ink

I’ve managed to forage

From the footsteps of a myth

Never daring to look

Upon her gilt form

Shining and perfect

Waiting in the wings

For the snapping of twigs

Getting in and getting out

With my precious goods

Before the other theios maniakos

Come seeking her blessing

The path treading behind the Muse

Is lowly and desperate

Once the elements are gathered

I journey for musing and meditation

Every moment spent

In delirious dedication was preparation

An incubation period

The greater the labor over

This offspring I have set out

In the quest for creation

The sweeter the completion of

Its glorious features

Its rhythm and meter

The syntax and metaphors

Every time you think you’ve read it

You may need to go deeper

I poured myself onto the page

But the Muse slit my throat

Showing me how to bleed my

Truth out on paper

The only way to fully commit

Otherwise, squinting critics can detect

The slightest hesitation marks

Making a note of it

Moving on, caring not

Tossing it on the reject heap

K. B. Silver