Creativity can be a fickle and elusive lover.

The passion ebbs and flows like the tides, it cycles like the moon, it can go into deep hibernation in the shadows.

She does not want to be pursued or chased; she is not prey to a stalking predator.

She does not fall for cheap tricks or empty promises.

She will not be pushed to act before she is ready.

She does not make negotiations for her presence.

She wants to be wooed, romanced, seduced, and teased out from hiding.

She requires deep heart-listening, so you can hear her soft coos and whispers.

The fire must be kept burning.  She is hungry.

Feed her with the desires that are born in the soul place.

Feed her with your sweat and tears, the movement of your body, the expression of your voice.

Feed her with beauty and joy.  With sunsets, moonlight, laughter, the touch of skin, and ocean waves.

Let her see how badly you want to submit to her power and be swept up into her holy rapture.

The muse comes when she is ready,

unrestricted,

so she can unleash upon you with her seductive tendrils

to conduct a symphony of expression through your sacred vessel

and you are left with no other choice than to let her take

every

last

piece of you.