Musing....

A presence of magisterial
impetuosity residing deep
within my being
she impulses me to write
what she perceives. She
shoots like a comet
through the infinite space
of my mind, leaving a
luminescent trail
of thought and language
in my brain long accustomed
to her presence, commanding
me to her transcription.
Leaving me with the
indelible impression that 
I am but her amanuensis. 
There is no power beyond
hers demanding my obedience
to her imperious behest.
We are as master and
slave, as though I exist
to recognize her primal
indulgence; a mere shell.