300 miles and the muse still feels the echoes tugging hard.
The notes carry through the hallways calling her by many names.
Before she blinks she feels water running down,
As her head fills to the brim with the song.
She heard the transmission, it won’t leave her alone.
You have reached her and it has stopped her in the cold.
She wants to reach you, she wants to touch you.
She opens her lips, but only this liquid pours out:
Be still. In this stillness look in. In is a direction not a location.
You’ve been drowning. When all the while, you’re 3 feet deep.
Worship the air, the water, and seek purity for your blood.
Your body was a gift and it knows the way.
You are the only one keeping yourself from your dreams.
They beckon you like the tide pushing against the land.
Leave the excuses and the hurt where you stand, they will serve you no longer.
Out of the frost you can emerge as new as you will.
She is only as close as you are to yourself.
Written by me [DigiMoth]