by Mark Walters

Created on: May 05, 2010   Last Updated: April 28, 2012

                    The Muse

About me settle swirling mists
Whose shape is void and formless
His words soft as dawn’s first kiss
Yet till He breathes I’m speechless
Light breaks forth upon my deep
And His Spirit stirs my soul

Drinking deep my fears find ease
Caught up in His living winds
Lifted in the swirling breeze
Filled with Him I lift the pen
Then the tide begins to ebb
And the muse has gone again

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