Muse
There’s an artist on the seashore with an easel and his paints and he’s mixing all the colors of the sun. There’s a blue kite high above the waves, a lady by his side, as the tide begins to make its evening run. And he hopes his paints can capture just a hint of what he sees in the lady and her kite against the sea. And his brushstrokes on the canvas are the colors of his dreams as they paint a world that only lovers see. There’s a writer in the study with his paper and his pen and he’s putting words together for a song. And he’s thinking of the seashore and the lady resting near— like a kite on high his heart just sails along. And he hopes his words can capture just a hint of what it he sees in the lady who is lost in gentle sleep. And his words upon the paper weave a melody of dreams as they paint a song that only lovers keep. And the artist knows that he can paint without her and the writer knows the words are always there. But it’s not so much the picture or the love song, it’s the hint of all it means, the colors and the dreams, A love that only lovers truly share.
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Thank You!
Love the rhythmic cadence Paul, so satisfying to read :)
Paul, your words feel like the shimmer of light just before sunset—a moment so fleeting and tender that it can only be captured by feeling, not by force. 🎨✨
As I read your piece, I could almost hear the soft pull of the tide and feel the brush of salt-laced air, the kind of atmosphere where both painter and poet are simply vessels for something larger, something sacred.
What touched me most was the gentle truth humming beneath your lines: that it's not the picture or the song themselves, but the love that breathes life into them—the love that becomes them.
Thank you for sharing this glimpse into a world where dreams have colors, and love speaks in brushstrokes and verses. You've not just captured a scene; you've captured a feeling many of us recognize but seldom have the words to describe.
I'm grateful to walk alongside your reflections, even from afar. 🌊🖋️