O Muse, are you here? I traveled Many miles to you. On bended Knees I beg forgiveness. No more Phone calls or letters written. No Distance between us. Together We can quickly cross frozen ground And safely return to our home Before darkness leads us astray. Cultivation begins at dawn In the garden of Creation. At harvest let your Self be known So that your essence of Being Becomes imprinted on my Soul Preparing it to clearly hear Your silent Thoughts and Words During and between Sleep and Wake.