"Muse I"

He comes gently
I hear him in my dreams
gives me inspiration
tells me I can fly.
Softly fleeting whispers
I try to catch the quiet
hold it tightly in my hands
till morning
when on paper
I can write,
making inaudible
whispers come to life.

"Muse II"

Seemingly coming from nowhere
these words that I find
dark, forgotten somewhere
beneath clutter in my mind.

I write them while I sleep
between waking and pre-dawn
I scramble, memory to keep
hunting paper, pen before they're gone.