The Muse

About me settle swirling mists
Whose shape is void and formless
His words as soft as dawn's first kiss
Yet till He breathes I'm speechless
Light breaks forth upon my deep
And His Spirit stirs my soul

Living chords rise up to tease
Caught up in His living winds
Lifted in the swirling breeze
Then the tide begins to ebb
And the muse has gone again