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On A Clear Day She,,,
By joseexist in Musings On Muses
October 6, 2009

On a clear day she makes beautiful sense. Her every word becomes a gentle breeze that stretches my sails and keeps me on course. She sings the waves into a gentle pitch and the sun does not burn my skin. The hold is full of fresh supplies and the world beckons me to the bow for a long lasting look ahead. The keel thrums inaudibly as it breaks new water in each moment and a soft cool spray strokes my face. On a clear day, she makes beautiful sense.

Her voice is a sweet soliloquy tugging at the wheel. The course does not matter, nor the destination for today. I will get there, when I get there. For now, every note echoes the creation of a good memory. My mind is a cathedral reverberating with her song, of her life, and the love she sends my way. The masts creak gently and the soft breeze whistles softly thru the rigging. Her voice is a sweet soliloquy, tugging at the wheel.

Her eyes are the clouds thru which the sunlight breaks. Mottling the sea with curious shadows and telling me a thousand tales with a single glance. They are the two other oceans that hold worlds I cannot help myself but to dream of. They are the windows to her soul and far more magical than those of the Medusa. I freeze when they blink, and thaw when they re-open. They weather my soul and bash my shores with waves of whim and fancy. Her eyes are the clouds, thru which, the sunlight breaks.

Her smile is the moon in my hands pulling the tides around my heart. She makes me feel young. I am the hawk silhouetted against her face. I am the cry of the eagle, from a million miles away. I am the happiness in whale-song, and everything unknown in the sub-sonic words of elephants. I am the laugh of the dolphin and the cry of the wolf, the pulse of the jellyfish, and the “I see” in the eyes of the gorilla. She makes it easy for me to be all these things and I soar between the stars on her wings. Her smile is the moon, in my hands, pulling the tides, around my heart.

On a cloudy day Glenda can always change the weather.

On a cloudy day, Glenda, can always, change, the weather.

(Inspired undoubtedly by the muse I can never refuse, Glenda.)

               Jose’ Diaz

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