The Muse

(An International Journal of Poetry)

Volume-1                                          June-2011                                                        Number-1



In the Beginning
                  by Linda Appleby

Stars had not begun to shine
When you took your place in the firmament
Water had never turned to wine
Abraham had yet to pitch his tent
His sons and daughters glimpses in his eye

And the moon bowed down in recognition of a star
And the silence swam like tears
No wise man had ever walked so far
In the beginning of years of years
When the word became flesh, a breathing avatar

So sing of the holy ages while you wait
And play the flute, like Krishna
Since God is man and dead is hate
And show the thousands where the loaves and fish are



Snowball Fight
             by Linda Appleby

It was too cold to write
Til the new moon put a stop to it
Cutting a crescent in the black sky
That was ice
Each twig wrapped in white fur
Breath like a steam train pouring a living mist
Layers of it, there were
A sub-layer of ice
A coat of frost

Snow made in the image of man
Two primitive balls, some sticks, a scarf
He challenges nature in a snowball fight
Who is the boss?
The silhouette of the tree marks the horizon
The sun shines through the clouds

Winter of the soul
Where the heart hibernates
Round as a dormant mouse