Trapping the Muse

She is not as of the ancient Athena
Of beauty untold bathing
In marbled stone pools perched
In courtyard of the mountaintop temple

More a phantom in the trees
A wisp on the breeze
Floating in and out from brush to brush
Appearing and the next instant gone

Haunting the thick chaparral
As a small creature of the hillsides
Single
Solitary
Hidden in silence like the hare

I study her ways
Watch intently and take notes
Scratch sketches upon paper
Glass her from afar
She is illusive

I check bait along the traplines
Clack horns and mouth calls
Or sit silent amongst the brush
And lie in wait for days on end

I stick to the basics until drawn
Then flip the set and move on
Over the next ridge on a whim
And reload again and again

She will creep gracefully into the scene
Munching grass and herbs with leisure
My heart pumps blood heavy
With slow anticipation

She sniffs my snares warily
And then to my surprise
Knowingly looks me in the eyes
As I am frozen in amazement

She feeds me images pumping
Her stream of thought consciousness
Rambling on like a rush of waters
As I am now ensnared in her currents

I have coaxed her to this spot
Only to have become trapped myself
Left here in sweet scented sage
She bounds away again free

Sometimes in my wanderings
I see her tracks laid out upon the forest floor
Traces upon the rock
Or deep set clearly in the wet earth

I go to the woods to hunt the words
Fine morsels of meat and flesh
Hidden amongst the vegetation
I am haunted by these ghosts

When I am done for the day
Satisfied with the fruits upon the vine
I gather my quarry and move on
And head for camp to cook my meal

Other days I let time go by
And as I walk along the waters edge
I catch a gleam from the corner of my eye
Of something shiny in the slow moving stream

I reach my arm into the water
And pick her out of the gravel
And place her nugget in my pocket
And move on again over the ridge
For I will be hungry for meat again