MOONLIGHT MUSE

Nestled under the fairy like Rowan trees barren of their russet flowers, clothed instead in a lunar blue nightgown. Chilled breath of the twelfth night lapping through opened French doors of the makeshift concert hall, combing the naked stick trees, like boney white fingers.
One solitary light focuses on My Muse, his shadowed figure madly running fingers up and down the Ivory teeth of a white Grand Piano, casting off a saddened yet passionate Moonlight Sonata flooding the Indigo Serenade into the dark corners. Magnificent musical talent never displayed by a single written note or any shred of rehearsed sheets, highlighted by the tones and hues of La Luna’s iridescence. The concerto trickles flawlessly under fingers adorned like a Stellar God.
My Muse loosens a Spirit dragging him low. Forgetting the cornered off part of the world he occupies, his mind wrapped in oblivion, calling forth his elemental friends he’s appeasing, soaking all the silver he can from the moon to color the keys, playing his moods in a funneled focus until his black viral thoughts dispel completely.
Forgetting his position as the graceful supportive baluster being obliterated by hurricane forces blasting about his failing strength drowning the security he desires. Features once blessed with centering peace now snarling at his reasons to set a hasty union off until the stormy skies clear. Futile energies spurring him to a wild tangle, twisting temporary stability into a prison sentence with a brooding spirit swollen full of suffocating realism that an actual bond beyond what he’s prepared for squeezes acknowledgment of its existence. When he’d rather not give airtime to the abrasive moxie of being caught up in a Union so untamed and mangled! A dynamic duo creates magic on the same plane! Love doesn’t have to be so hard! So alike even in explosive stubbornness, swinging with the same survival tactics when backed against the wall, attempting to drudge up an effort to keep a dissolving relation intact. Casting crowns and all integrity on a principled stance. THIS isn’t love, just two wills diluting the potency of a forever change, unleashing the gates to overflowing, weakening the intensity of a crucible fire.
Crumbling the one relationship he’d hoped would remain out of the crushing grip of Father Time, pushing away the gutted heart of the person enduring the force of the impact. The passionate sacrifice infusing the night sky with his will to let go, summoning his source holding new hearts in a knot yet tied. Wafting the tender unconquered horizon held in the set of eyes he can never erase, stealing his heart to setting sail towards the bond that never loosens. The moonlight relieves the irons clasped over his armored chest cavity locking down emotion, holding anything worth feeling to a day twice removed into a distant later when the fire smolders and more loving arms can brave the impact with him. He drains the last silvery drop onto the keys, Ignoring the breathy chatter of his audience until every last note falls with perfection and the sentiment congeals, leaving fear in hands more capable.

~ by KrisRaah on June 21, 2009.

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