Monday, January 14, 2008

'Twas two weeks after Christmas, and all through the house,
not a wee one was stirring, not even my spouse.
The stockings were packed, the chimney was bare,
The tree was recycled, it's stand stored for next year.

The children were packed and sent off to school,
I'd practically shoved them, totally NOT cool.
And I in my sweatpants and elastic headband,
Had just hunkered down for a trip thru Blogland.

I had just hit sign in, when I heard a terrible noise,
I jumped from the chair thinking it was the boys!
But, Wait. It's just me, alone, free and clear,
But then, I knew, was over come by fear.

The dust, as it settled in my art closet reveled great distress,
The shelves had collapsed and Oh, what a mess!
I said some choice words, which I won't repeat to you,
got down on my knees and began to sort through.

The treasures lay helpless, a mess on the floor,
So jumbled and crumbled and pretty no more.
And just when I thought "Why bother! I can't win, I just lose!"
I spied in the pile my lovely, sweet Muse.

She, forgotten so long ago, lie on the floor; waiting.
Her silence spoke volumes, admonishing me for not creating.
"Where have you been?" she asked, hurt and alone,
"I have been here, waiting for answers and there have been none".

She was right to be angry, stored up on a shelf,
And I cried when I saw her, in spite of myself;
I'd missed her so and tried explaining all the reasons;
The husband, the boys, the holiday season.

But really, the excuses, rang false in my ear,
And the real reason was that I was blocked by fear.
Fear of failure and not measuring up sounded more true,
And I realized then that I had to push through.

My fears were my own and needed attention,
And working them out seemed like the best prescription.
So I dusted her off, placed her back in my heart,
And there she'll reside, gently guiding my art.
~Jamie Miller

Thank you for your sweet emails of concern. Everything is fine. I am just arting/organizing like mad and it is consuming my free time. Balance is an art in itself. I am learning in fits and starts.


Lori said...

well this is just wonderful...and how lucky am i that the poetess read this to me herself in her sweet southern drawl...

now you and your newly dusted off muse go make something wonderful to knock my socks off...

A bird in the hand said...

Wow! Jamie, you are a poet, as well as an arteologist, artist, and who knows what else!! xoxo


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