It is almost over.
It is almost starting.
Whatever the future holds for the YouEssofAY, it begins now.
Whatever it holds for me, begins now.
I am weary of the Beforetime. It has sucked the life from me, as some vegetarian leech would make raisins of grapes. It has consumed my creativity, leaving me a whispering husk, faintly shaking his cane at the world.
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I went to bed the other night in a FOUL mood. As I composed myself for fitful slumber, my Muse began to compose, as well: a ripping good poem of metered excellence. It built and built upon itself, oracular bile, and so clearly defined! I knew that it would be waiting for me in the morning.
We know the punch line.
My Stately Pleasure Dome faded to the bare memory of shape. But nonetheless, the message shone through, My Muse was back!
The resolution, then, is to let her hold sway, and indulge in creativity with words, in the image of One who Spoke, and it Was. No, not stodgy religious versifying. Just creativity.
Let there Be....
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