I would especially like to recourt the Muse of poetry,
who ran off with the mailman four years ago,
and drops me only a scribbled postcard from time to time.
~ John Updike
Deo Gratias! Last night, during my Holy Hour, the Muse knelt beside me once again and as always picked the time when I had stupidly left my journal in the car. So I had to excuse myself to the Lord and run out to the lobby and scrounge for pen and paper. Seven verses later, I had the fourth revision of Song One of the trilogy completed. I then knelt again in thanksgiving, promised to come see Him again later in the week, and rushed home to introduce my new lyrics to the piano.
It was a tentative and shy meeting at first, but then they really took to each other! My partner in crime ~ Sullivan to my Gilbert ~ is coming over tonight to work on the whole piece and then we shall see how this new song stands up to another's ears. An artist is always his own worst critic: either too harsh on his "children" or too fawning. I err more towards the former than the latter ~ but I have my moments of proud parenthood as well.
Whatever comes of it, I pray that this work be sung and heard to the greater glory of God. I am only His instrument, trying to multiply the gifts He has given me.
Oremus pro invicem,