She Speaks to Me, and I Listen: Thoughts from the Muse

"Good morning", she said to me hours before the light of day when the night sky is still dark and only silence fills the air. "I'd like for us to talk, because right now I have so many things I need to say to you, if you're ready to listen".

"Ready?" I thought to myself. "How can I possibly be ready it's 4:30am in the morning, can this wait?"

"No", she whispered.

I rolled myself out of bed, being careful not to awaken my wife who's peacefully sleeping, and managed to stumble over to the bathroom sink to splash cold water on my face. I wasn't a stranger to this routine. It was a regular occurrence for me to receive these types of visits on Saturday mornings. But this morning she appeared even more spirited. I made it over to my piano and began turning on the many switches that comprise my music recording workstation.

"Okay I'm here, so what would you like to discuss", I said curiously.

"While you were sleeping, I was dreaming of a melody," she whispered. "It's a beautiful melody and I need for you to realize the thoughts from my dream before they slip away."

"Okay, tell me of your dream," I said while placing my fingers on the piano keys.

She placed her hand on the back of my head and began to speak. "I'm dreaming of a color... sort of a pastel haze of sun-burnt orange and crimson. I'm feeling a mood... melancholy on the brink of dark with a touch of hope. I'm hearing a sound... progressively falling and in a minor key, yet it finds its way back to the root. It has the hammer attack of a piano with a grace that of a choir of Angels."

As she spoke to me I could hear and see as her thoughts described. I feverishly moved my hands across the pallet of ivory keys and realized her vision. Note after note, motif after motif, chorus after chorus, I transcribed the melodies and harmonies coloring what was a blank canvas with sound. She continued to tell me of her thoughts in this manner, and I continued to listen and transcribe.

For hours this went on until I felt a soft tapping on my shoulder. It was my wife informing that it was getting late and I needed my rest to prepare for work the next morning. It was already 11:30pm Sunday and I'm dumbfounded at how the time had passed so quickly. As my wife walked into the bedroom I paused for a moment reflecting of the conversations I just had. I slowly switched off the workstation and followed her to the bedroom. Resting in my bed and slipping into a slumber, the melodies replayed in my mind over and over again. I smiled to myself and thought, "sweet sorrow, 'til it be morrow"... until my Muse speaks to me again.

Excerpt from "Thoughts from the Muse" ©Copyright Stephan Earl. All rights reserved.