Calliope and the Seraphim.

Calliope Zeus daughter the muse of poets

Sweet Calliope daughter of Zeus and muse of all poet souls, whispers quiet and incessantly in language flame to mortal souls

Calliope she walks the labyrinth of poets’ dreaming realities, scattering pearls and shards and shades of inspiration before her that trail back to first word origins, first spark that created musings.

Great Homer’s chosen handmaiden muse sits before the rain stained windows and on the mountain tops, everywhere and nowhere for those that lack a soul fire burning.

Sweet daughter of Zeus hides behind storm nimbus clouds and rides the chariot sun; she is found in dark pit places among the living and long done.

Sacred daughter spin your web of sublime inspired word, you’ve spanned the tyranny of spoken time, a lyric trail a trove dust cornucopia of words have swirled far behind you.

 In torrents and forgotten rivulets, you’ve passed and supped the spirit whole domain of unchained dreamers prose, in gilded words so elegant told they comfort in connection in feelings of, I am not alone.

Ghost Seraphim burns white hot in the cauldrons of the heavens and casts molten flame schisms upon the huddled kneeling masses.

The high exalted Seraphim travels celestial skies and vantages the mortal spiral flame humanity pursuing great trivia’s, traumas, lusts and puddle deep desire.  

But only blessed Calliope the gatekeeper of the word can muse in all who cast visions inwardly, the mysterious interplay in divinely crafted words.