For years he had carried around the feeling within his heart, his very soul, of the goddess of his inspiration. She kept him awake at night, trembling with excitement, drove him to dig deep and search his feelings. Athena.
And yet she had no face. Not yet. No physical outline to encapsulate all her potential. His Athena waiting to emerge in flesh and blood. And now, surrounded by bright light, she ascended from the confines of his mind.
The mystical muse, created solely in his mind, was born. Rubbing his eyes, he tried to make sense of what was before him. Dusk had fallen and the change in light played tricks with his eyes. But this was no trick.There she stood, donned in a sheath like fabric that appeared to float around her. She was strength. She was courage. She was light. Today, at this moment, she now had a face and he knew it was she.
And yet she had no face. Not yet. No physical outline to encapsulate all her potential. His Athena waiting to emerge in flesh and blood. And now, surrounded by bright light, she ascended from the confines of his mind.
The mystical muse, created solely in his mind, was born. Rubbing his eyes, he tried to make sense of what was before him. Dusk had fallen and the change in light played tricks with his eyes. But this was no trick.There she stood, donned in a sheath like fabric that appeared to float around her. She was strength. She was courage. She was light. Today, at this moment, she now had a face and he knew it was she.
Athena, as he had named her, carried him through the good
and the bad in his life. Darkness seemed
less frightening with her in his mind. Pain diminished. The cacophonous
sound of laughter abounded. Her very
existence in his mind allowed for creativity to flourish and he felt
invincible.
He had to get closer.
He had to see her eyes, to see if her soul held all that he had
imagined. Taking a step forward, he
stopped and hesitated. His heart pounded
vehemently in his ears, his hands shook.
Would the reality be as wonderful as the dream he had shrouded himself in
for years?
As he stood there and watched from afar, he was beholden to
her, but which her? The fantasy that existed for years within the dark recesses
of his mind that fed his creativity or the woman that stood before him, smiling
out at nothing, as though she held a secret no one else knew?
These were all questions that jumped from his psyche and the
answers eluded him. Her physical
proximity excised her from his subconscious and he was confronted with a
decision without her guidance from within.
Athena. His
Athena. His inspiration and muse.
Talk to me! Are you someone's muse? Have you found your muse?
