She aids my writing in many ways
Just so
I’m raking up some leaves
When my neighbor’s black cat
Big Boy
Tears across my path
Witness how her magic and wind sweep
All graceful and rising angel voice
Acting even against my doubts
I mean
Come on
A black cat is just a black cat
But as always in that golden moment
She’s singing compositional comfort
In sweetest tones
Although I trip and stumble
Fall face forward
And throw my arms out
Victim of superstition
In my mind I’m a dancer leaping
A step or two out of line with age
And maybe I see a little
Of myself embracing eternity
But no
It’s she
My savior knocking once again
So I find I’m still able to compose
Thanks to a pirouette or two
Or something like it
I’ve survived the fall
Albeit bruised and bloody
But most of all inspired
Her mellifluous voice
Having spoken to me
These lyrics springing upward
From my chanting soul
This is my muse at work
How writing inspiration strikes
And I limp to my computer
To present you with this poem
Lanning Lee 