The Muse

He falls upon me as a thief in the night, releasing me from my prison where I hang upon my cross of sticks. I spring to life in my Master’s hands as he gently straightens my strings and sets my feet, lightly on the ground. And though I am still bound, I am free. I am free to do that which I was created for; to be the intangible life that is always just beyond my reach as I hang lifeless in my dark cupboard always hopeful for my Master to come and set me free. Continue reading