Consequence, the Muse

She can be short and sharp as a papercut

Wild as a firestorm

Plain as week-old lemonade

Or timeless-easy

as a tropical lagoon

She can pounce like a feral cat,

the moment you transgress

Or bide her time...

Show up on your doorstep,

even after years

Or lifetimes

Baring lavish gifts

to enrich your nest

Or dynamite

to blow apart your walls

When she does appear,

you may not recognise her

But she remembers you, very well

She's been nourished by the wellspring of your intention

She's foraged every seed you ever tossed in her field

You and every other

And every ancestor

On every side of

Every

Imagined

Divide

She remembers you all very well

And She is always True

True as a mirror with no taint,

no bounds, and no skew

There is no need to fear her,

Consequence, the Muse.

She wants to be discovered

She asks to be undressed,

for you to pull at her thread

till you see how her web

can swell to entangle,

or slip, and unravel

She wants you to know her Mystery:

How it can bind you, eternally, or

Set

You

Free