My invisible muse
I cannot see you
Yet I have painted your countenance to perfection
With the colours of an Indian summer

My Silent Muse
I cannot hear you
But I have always danced with an innocent bliss
To the songs you have sang to me

My unhearing muse
I cannot speak to you
But you have always understood my words
In each of its soft and pressing sound

My non-existent muse
I cannot find you
Yet I have always laughed and cried with you
Through this greatest Comedy and Tragedy of my life