Sunday, January 4, 2015


Dormant, she lies in a bed of snow.
Mona Lisa envies her smile,
with its unique forever melting snowflake, 
a frozen fossil containing all possibilities.
I stand beside her like a powerless ghost,
wanting to terrify, shock, haunt, shake her 
into motion.  Would she run towards me?
or jump into an abyss of icy light? 
She can fly anywhere once she jumps.
But if I jump there, I'll die.

I must just stand here waiting,
feeling the passive anger of someone
who can't understand why an ill loved 
one doesn't simply heal, return
to vigor, rejoin life,
knowing full well that illness and healing don't
comply with our wishes.  They're partners
who conspire to inflate our love.

But, I'm not sure exactly how to love her.
I'll try being patient and kind, 
I'll let her be, wherever she wants.
I hope she chooses me when she wakes up.
I hope she remembers.

(for Poets United.)



  1. Oh! How we look for our muse, how we want her to choose us.
    I liked the overall symbolic image, but the second stanza is particularly evocative, in its approach towards healing and letting go the illness. But as you mention, "they're partners who conspire to inflate our love".
    An interesting read.

  2. a thought provoking write

    *.*★v . ✶•ӇƛƤƤƳ ƝЄƜ ƳЄƛƦ!•*´¨★ Ձ๏15

    much love...

  3. Myrna, I could not help but smile at this poem. I think my muse must be a friend of your muse, as mine feels pretty comatose as well. I like the way you wrote about standing before her as a powerless ghost. Yes, that is the feeling indeed. I am going to try being patient as kind as well, but if that does not work I will find a stick to prod her perhaps. That will HELP her remember me, I think. Smiles.

    Happy New Year, Myrna!

  4. The muse can be like that! Seems like mine needs a defibrillator sometimes. Nicely done!

  5. Your poem made me smile, Myrna. What a wonderful way to express your frustration and questions! I also like the way you portray the relationship between you and your muse.

  6. I so love "I'm not sure exactly how to love her". Ha! I see your muse looking at you with a puzzled expression, saying: I just helped you write this fantastic poem!" LOL.

  7. A smiling sleeping muse.. how can we ever wake her.. and how can we bend her smile towards us.. a great extended metaphor...

  8. Such a deep poem as it starts with, 'Dormant, she lies in a bed of snow' and moves through healing and anticipation. I agree a very interesting read!

  9. I hope she returns (and she is undeniably a woman) sooner rather than later. Full of vim, vigour and exciting trails for you to share.

  10. I can relate to the comatose muse and the waiting for the spark ~ Yet I also believe that we must help the muse ourselves, nudge and wake her up & actively engaged her by reading and writing whatever comes our way ~

    Happy New Year Myrna !!!

  11. Wonderful! Sounds like you need a mirror to see your creative image. :-)

  12. she definitely will. i remember writing about missing my muse and called it Coma too lol

    Happy New Year

  13. happy new year Myrna...I hope your muse will choose you ...smiles..beautiful lines

  14. oh i'm sure she remembers... she def. has her own will and own ideas sometimes which is why life is so interesting with her... smiles
    happy new year myrna.... good to be reading you again

  15. she is there...dont pressure her...but do feed her...write little snippets of your day....about the fun you have with the little ones....she will take those and make something of them...