O Muse, are you here?  I traveled
Many miles to you.  On bended
Knees I beg forgiveness.  No more
Phone calls or letters written.  No
Distance between us.  Together
We can quickly cross frozen ground
And safely return to our home 
Before darkness leads us astray.

Cultivation begins at dawn
In the garden of Creation.
At harvest let your Self be known
So that your essence of Being
Becomes imprinted on my Soul
Preparing it to clearly hear
Your silent Thoughts and Words
During and between Sleep and Wake.