O Sovereign Muse, Inspiration’s Crown, who bestows the poetic thrall, by Your hand am I guided, by Your voice am I blessed to turn the pages of my thoughts into words upon the page– words which still, and words which liven– words of silk and words of iron– for what is a tale without blood or love, without death or steel or drive?
Goddess of the tale told carefully– willfully– come forth, that I might recite my song to You who are the Sovereign of Songs, and the peace of the poet’s rest after a lifetime of stories told. If ever I have been dear to You, Goddess, in my frenzy or in my fallow haze, if my joys are known to You as are my pangs, Sublime Wordsmith, grant me the grace of Your ear, that I may improve upon the gifts given, and forever reflect Your mastery upon this bereaved world!
Hail and welcome, Kalliope, Chief of Muses, with Your fingers upon the pulse of history! Hail and welcome, Kalliope, Beloved of Apollon, who coaxes forth the words that set our souls alight! Hail and welcome, Kalliope, first among Mnemosyne’s precious Daughters!
— Columbine (12/18/2019)