Promise me a retrospective

A gathering of my graces

Such as they were

Be kind as you look upon my clumsy iterations and

Remember that I did them all for you.

You were my muses if there is any such thing as a muse.

Let us say a starting point, a guide, if you will, and

that all that had come before you

was unimportant.

Bleak and uninspiring on a good day and that when you came,

Ah, then there was meaning,

color and abstraction,

a reason to pick up the pen,

the brush,

the therapist,

instead of those other things that were

Feats of self abnegation,

Obliteration. Before you. So,

promise me a meeting of the muses, the healers and the dancers, the

strummers, the singers, and the scribes.

Gather here together and celebrate

that I have made you.

And you me.