When my muse comes
she tells me stories
that my heart
already knows
but she does it by playing
words with music
and these silken sounds
that sound like instruments
in orchestras of voices
gladden my soul
and make me drunk on harmony.
When she comes
she tells me stories
that my heart
already knows
but she does it singing
melodies with words.
Her name is poetry.
She is a child
that never forgets
to be an adult
and she's an adult
that never forgets
to be a child.

August 18, 2020