I used to pray to God as I was taught <br />but it never seemed to work, <br />and why should He listen anyway — <br />like when disaster comes, all pray and <br />some are saved, they praise and thank the Lord <br />but what about the others that He didn’t save, <br />are they all sinners? No — it is absurd. <br />Yet I find I miss the act of prayer, <br />it used to be a comfort <br />in times of stress, so now I choose <br />to pray, but to my Muse, my anima, <br />that hidden inner person in my personality, <br />whom I am told for men is female and for women male. <br />My female Muse I have neglected in the past <br />but now I’m going to get to know her <br />if I can — so what’s her name? <br />I think it must be Hathor for she always was <br />my all-time favourite goddess in the pantheon <br />of ancient Egypt — a sort of lovely Jersey cow <br />with liquid melting eyes of love, and yet a lass <br />who likes to sing and dance and drink <br />to excess, she’s also fond of sex, <br />oh yes, She can be my Muse, <br />and I hope she’ll help me find some lovely poems too.<br /><br />Pete Crowther<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/anima-my-muse/
