My Muses
God sends me muses.
Hidden faces
From secret places
That make my heart race
In an attempt to capture
Elusive thoughts
Of non-conformity,
Making deformity
The norm.
No angels here.
Just raw, gritty, sometimes witty
Whimsical outspoken
Purveyors of naked truth.
Windows into a world
That seeks only to shut them out.
Everyday souls
Spouting candor
In hallowed halls
Standing tall
Or staying small,
Dancing through a world in chaos.
God’s children say the darndest things,
Little nuggets of truth
Gleaming in darkened corners
And smoke-filled rooms.
I listen
As I watch their movements around me.
Their voices astound me.
That’s God whispering in my ear
To bring
Substance to my words
And grace to my heart.


Rev Walt