So many choices in each moment.
What to create?
Is it time to rest?
I choose to sing.
I record my voice and listen.
I like the way it sounds,
so I keep going.
I’m learning something
about creativity and pleasure,
trusting myself in the process.
A rainy day in Baltimore city
An airplane flying overhead
Wind rustling the changing leaves
Drops of rain ending their descent
on asphalt, concrete, metal, glass, garbage
but also on earth, grass, flowers, trees,
and puppies scampering by with umbrella-ed owners
A neighbor sings as she walks down the street
The latest pop tune?
I don’t know,
I’m disconnected from that scene
I prefer to listen to the inner music,
the music that no one else can hear,
but maybe they can see
when they look at me
what a mixture of unconscious dissonance and
deliberate harmony can produce
in this human life
of sounds and silence.
It occurred to me tonight
as I invoked the muses before writing,
it is nice to have divine inspiration,
but it can’t do much if we don’t receive
what it is we are asking for.
Let’s get clear on what we want:
and then let us receive these things we ask for,
by breathing in deeply.
Then feeling the existence of these wondrous qualities within us,
let us share them with all beings
by giving of ourselves,
breathing out completely.
Yes, invoke divine beings–
angels, teachers, guides,
but then let’s do our job too.