I don’t believe in Muses, they’re just our mind’s excuses
cursing the loss of rhyme. Or in our delight,
when things go so right, we offer thanks to the gods.

In ancient Greece, flow of memorized reams
were essential to tell a tale. The needs of their Gods,
were conversely at odds, with diverting human fools.

These Gods were proud, their vainness loud,
adoration they craved. They claimed sanctity,
in their divinity, not caring for Man’s domain.

So Zeus ordered birthed, nine daughters of worth,
to create the music of praise. But this somehow seems wrong,
inception belongs, to all who hear life's refrains.

Now, the cosmos is wide, did always abide,
Greek gods were not the first. Chaos had rule,
endless Void was his fuel, a master of massive birth.

Silent twins did spring, with galactic wings,
eventually they spoke. This brought about light,
forming Day and Night, with Sleep and Death betrothed.

Orbal Gaia’s huge womb, extracted its loom,
and wove her skin new depth. Intuitive Mother,
without any other, softly began to chant.

I hope you can see, what other views can be,
I praise the human mind. Eros attracted,
Earth reacted, Poetry belongs to Man.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 10/14/03