A Muse-ment

Last February I admitted to having an imaginary good friend Cindy, my Muse. Questions have been raised since then, such as "What? An IMAGINARY friend?" Well, why not? After all I am imaginary myself. And (think about it!) you should be, too. Mostly, though, people complain "Why does Cindy sound like such an airhead?" To this I answer "Hey - that's my Muse you're bad-mouthing!" and "If I had called her/him James would you have interpreted her/his directness as cranial ventilation? I think not!"

But I don't have to defend Cindy or any other imaginary person. I can let her do it. Here are 3 portraits of 3 other imaginary women (all homeless) by Cindy, so you may get to know her better:

"Marjorie"

From that dark moment

A floodlight upon

A dead branch in snow

Reveals a Person

Inside and outside

Forever caring...

Shining on the lost.

For one dark moment

She feels forgotten.

Then the light expands,

Embracing her tears.

"*Elizabeth*", by Cindy

Trees outnumber *Elizabeth*

Clouds blossom Streets carpet

Locks harbor Walls garden

Glass pictures Steel poses

Lamps fountain Stones nurture

while

Trees,

still

outnumbering

*Elizabeth*,

surround and defend....

"Ann", By Cindy

Ann plays only the black keys.

The harsh realities of her life

As ex-wife and 5-time-mother

Want another scale than mine

To remind THEM of THEIR ways

Until the day she sings again.

I'd like to sum up with these Thoughts: An unexamined image is a stereotype. An unexamined intuition is a guess. And an unexamined life is a long, expensive, stupor. But if that's the way you like it who am I to argue?