Chasing the Muse

I wish I could tell you how to capture that vixen, the muse, the mythical creature who bestows inspiration--but it's simply not possible. She (mine is a she) is a shape-shifter who delights in dancing just out of reach, teasing me with fantastic tales sung in perfect pitch and enviable prose. When she does appear (and I never know when that will be), I must pretend that I can't see her for fear she'll leave me.

After countless attempts to conjure her, I've discovered that she finds water soothing and will whisper ideas in my ear when I'm swimming, or soaking in a fragrant bath. More importantly, I've learned what her favorite drink is. Sometimes, after a strong brew of energizing (and sleep-depriving) coffee, she will magically appear. Then, with a wink and a laugh, she will sit next to me, an ephemeral creature, her gossamer robes tickling my arm, and pluck ideas from my mind as if plucking a lute. Although the music isn't always beautiful, or even original, it is mine and it flows like the water my muse loves so much.