So many days and nights have come without words. I honor the muse. I pay homage to ritual and discipline, yet inspiration lands on the porch next door. My porch left empty save the leaves that arrived with the evening's breeze and residue from last night's dreams. I sit quietly in prayer. I find strength to ask for another day. I know that somewhere behind the wind my inspiration rests. She will arrive. She will return and I will welcome her gently. The way you kiss your lover after a long night apart.